


If You Love Me, Don't Let Go

by axolotlnerd-campcamp (axolotlNerd)



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Airplane Crashes, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blood, Depression, F/M, Fire, Hope you guys like Drama, Man this is a strange combination of AUs, Slow Burn, Survival, Survivor Guilt, Trigger warnings for lots of things, because oh boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-16 20:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 70,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14818061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axolotlNerd/pseuds/axolotlnerd-campcamp
Summary: Gwen's life is full of opportunities; two degrees, skills in creative writing, even an offer to get her book published. Though she still hasn't found her soulmate like so many of her friends, she's concerned with other things.That is, until a freak accident on her way to Edmonton changes everything.





	1. Bound To Make Mistakes

Gwen’s world had always been gray. Not that it wasn’t normal for young people — it has been this way for years.

Some people say it was a magic spell cast on humans long, long ago. A witch, or a fairy, or maybe even an angel cast it on a young girl. “You have taunted your friends with your infatuation for far too long,” It had told her. “And I shall show you the truth. Until you find your  _ true _ love, you will not see the light of color. Until you find the one you would give  _ your very life for, _ you will never see the color of the rose or the sunset or all the things you have taken for granted.”

So the spell was cast, and she never saw color again. The boy she had loved so dearly, she left, saying she must find the one who gave her back color in her life.

She traveled for many years, and never found the one. Years later, she laid on her deathbed, and asked the being to grant her one dying wish.

“I wish for the rest of the human race to suffer my curse. Give them the same gift I was given so long ago.” She demanded. The creature followed her orders, and from then on, children were born seeing without color until they found their true love.

Gwen loved that myth. Though science had been trying and failing to figure it out, she’d rather believe that fairytale.

People assumed she’d find her love young. Her preschool and elementary teachers would talk to her parents, tell them of all the love she had in her heart. She loved reading romance novels, showed so much emotion and passion all the time — of course she’d find her true love by middle school. Right?

But she didn’t. She hoped that by the time she finished high school, she’d find that person. But she didn’t.

When she graduated, she started to wonder if she’d never find them. She knew that was a stupid thought, but it was buried in the back of her head, constantly nagging her.

But a friend of hers supported her. “So what if you never find your partner for life? Who said you needed one in the first place? People make too big of a deal out of it.” She had said.

So Gwen made it a challenge.  _ If people make such a big deal out of finding true love, _ she told herself,  _ I’ll make a hero who never found it. _

So she got to writing. She made a whole novel, one-hundred-thousand words about a girl who had never seen a single color but still solved the mystery of a serial murderer in her hometown.

Gwen didn’t realize she had planned on finishing it until she did. When she finished it, she knew she had to publish it. Suddenly, it became a goal of her’s.

She sent out a thousand emails at  _ least. _ And no one picked it up until she found one publisher in Edmonton, who fell in love with novel - so much so that she offered to fly Gwen out to Canada, more than 2000 miles away from New York City.

She took the deal without hesitance.

 

“Nervous?”

The man’s voice was playful and sweet sounding, and Gwen looked over to him. He was tall, and had freckles that lined the belt under his eyes. He was awkwardly tucked in the plane seat with his gangly legs, but still looked patient and maybe even comfortable.

Gwen wanted to get rude; of  _ course _ she was nervous. Her dark hair was falling out of her ponytail, and her hands clutched the seat belt around her waist. She was frantically looking out of the window to her left, thoughts racing.  _ Why aren’t we just taking off yet? What if something happened? What if something happens to us? _

“Yeah,” She replied with simply. The man laughed, leaning back in his seat as he ran a hand through his curls to neaten them.

“Is this your first time?” He asked, a smile painting his face perfectly. Like it had been there for years.

Gwen cursed, her anxieties making her chest cave in as the plane turned turned onto the runway. “No, I’ve been nervous before.” She answered, hoping that humor would help quench the beast of anxiety in her stomach.

The man next to her laughed contagiously, and Gwen found herself laughing too. 

She abruptly stopped as the plane started speeding down the runway, the metal bird beginning to lift into the air. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the shaking of the plane to pass.

“It’s okay, you’ll be fine,” The man next to her comforted. Gwen opened her eyes and scanned him, and it made her realize that it was these moments she wished she could see color. He had a kindness in his eyes, and she was sure it would have been so much more genuine had she been able to see the green of them.

“Sorry,” Gwen started as the plane evened out, turbulence stopping as they finally lifted into the air fully. “I know I’m being a wimp.” She tied to lay back just a bit to relax, but with the tiny seats, it only made her feel more cramped in.

“Don’t be sorry! I was nervous on my first flight too. If it makes you feel any better, I still need to sleep with the lights on after watching horror movies.” The man next to her explain.

“Wow.” Gwen said. “You’re even more of a wimp than me.” 

The man gawked at her as she laughed, putting a hand to his chest in mock pain. He almost looked completely insulted, had it not been for the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He eventually gave in and laughed with Gwen, smiling brightly as ever.

“I take it you’re feeling better?” He asked.

“Much. Thank you.” She said genuinely.

“Are you going to Edmonton?” He made small talk, simply hoping the woman wasn’t bothered by it.

But she smiled politely. “Yeah, I’m going to get a book published. You?”

“That’s awesome! I’m going to be meeting up with some family for the holidays. One of my aunts is actually a publisher, maybe you’ll be meeting her!” He beamed.

“Small world, huh?” She noted. “So it’s been a big trip for you then?”

“Definitely. I was up in Maine not long ago, and I had to rush through the whole process after driving all the way back down here.” He explained. “It’s been such a pain!”

“That sucks. Can you sleep on flights?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”  
“Do you want me to shut up so you can?”

“No, no! I like chatting, it makes the time go faster. Plus, It’s a great way to make new friends!” He said. “So, do you write for a living?” 

“No, I just got out of college. Dual major for liberal arts and psyche. You?” Gwen asked.

“I’m a teacher for a classroom of second graders.” He said.

“Rough. Did you choose to do that?”

“Yeah! I love it, the kids are like my own little family away from home. My parents had  _ totally  _ expected it, too. Everyone just sort of knew I’d do something to help kids. I even want to be a foster parent!” He sounded so happy to talk about his life, it made Gwen feel safe in the plane, even when it rattled with turbulence.

Small talk continued on throughout the trip, making most of the trip  _ fly _ by. Gwen was probably too proud of herself when she made that joke.

For a moment, Gwen’s anxiety disappeared. For a moment, Gwen felt safe in the metal beast she was riding in. For a moment, Gwen felt truly excited to be thirty-thousand feet in the air.

That all disappeared when the plane rattle once again, lights flickering before shutting off entirely. The man next to Gwen simply smiled, putting a hand gently on Gwen’s shoulder and muttering comforting words.

But he was cut off as he realized the plane was silent. Realization dawned on him, and his smile flickered off like the lights of the cabin they were trapped in.

 

The engines of the plane were no longer running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	2. Call It Disposition — Day One

If Gwen had been asked what happened after the crash, she would not have been able to tell. Small recollections pooled in her head — screaming, loud, loud screaming, and crying. 

Fire. 

Darkness.

Cold.

_ Pain. _

 

The next thing she knew, she was surrounded by the whiteness of a blizzard, shivering and crying. She didn’t know where the hell she was, just that she was cold and didn’t want to be.

Behind her, a giant fire blazed almost gloriously. Though part of her begged to go towards it, she knew the fire had come from gas. For all she knew, that could be an explosion waiting to happen. So she moved on, pulling herself through the snow storm and away from the fire. Instinct and adrenaline pulled her forwards as she clutched her arms, and she was glad she had forgotten to remove her coat. It wasn’t enough to keep her from getting chilled down to her core, though.

As she moved forward, she saw someone in the snow in front of her, standing and walking the same direction as her. They were moving slower than her, clearly disorientated.

_ “Hey!” _ Gwen yelled to them. Her voice cracked, just one of the many things that hurt, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment. The person turned to face her, almost falling over with the effort. He blinked owlishly, and Gwen realized this was the same stranger who comforted her on the flight.

_ The flight. _

“I… I-” The man stuttered, and as Gwen got closer, she realized a dark greyness had settled itself over half of his face. Blood, beginning to run down his neck and drip off of him into the white snow at his feet.

“Holy shit.”

The phrase became her mantra as she ran closer to the man, in time with the pound of her heart as she ran ahead to the man. He stammered, not able to string together his sentences right.  _ Concussion. _ Her mind supplied the word right as she reached the man, grabbing his shoulders in a feeble attempt to get him acting normal.

She touched the wound on his forehead as he stared at the fire behind her.  _ Head wounds just bleed a lot, right? _ She just had to hope as she reached to her pockets, pulling out a cold and slightly damp bag of tissues and pressing the whole package to his head.

“What’s your name?” She asked, mentally going over signs for a concussion.

“Wha…?” The man tried to ask as his eyes flickered back and forth from the fire to the woman trying to treat his wound.

“Tell me your name.” She demanded, fear making her sound more demanding. The man stuttered once again, still confused and probably brain damaged.

“I’m, uh- I- …David.” He got out eventually, closing his eyes to concentrate for a moment.

“Good. How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Great. When’s your birthday?”

“March 14th.”

“Birth year?”

“‘92. We… We were in that thing.” His gaze focussed on the plane behind Gwen, pupils dilated with fear. Gwen looked over her shoulder to the blaze behind her, staring at the flames.

“Yeah.” She said quietly. She grabbed David’s hand, pulling him away from the flames. “Yeah, we were.”

David breathed shakily, but followed regardless. “Are- Are you okay?” He asked as they made their way though the snow storm. Gwen was about to answer when a figure made out in the distance — a house?

“Worry about that when you’re not concussed, let’s go!” She pulled him forwards, starting to to run. He struggled to start, but once he was going, his long legs kept him at Gwen’s pace easy.

“What is that?”

“A hunter’s hut?” She assumed, running up the small steps that led to the door. David stumbled a bit more, then as soon as he made it inside the hut, he practically collapsed as he sat on the floor.

Gwen’s teeth clicked together, and she had to clench her mouth together to stop it. But David wasn’t shivering at all, and all that did was make Gwen worried and scared.

Was his paleness from the cut on his head? Or was that frostbite already settling in?

Gwen took off her jacket and threw it around David’s shoulders, knowing that it was too small but also knowing he needed heat in his body now. David’s shaking hand was holding the tissues to his wound as the woman covered him with her jacket, muttering small things to herself to calm her anxiety.

“Thank you,” David said in between huffs. “You- Thanks- I’m usually not this useless.” His words sounded thick, almost like he was drunk, and that just made Gwen even more scared.

_ We need an ambulance. _ Gwen’s thoughts were rushing back and forth, rummaging through cabinets and drawers to find any sort of first aid kit.  _ What about rescue? What if the blizzard keeps people from getting here? _

Gwen sighed, ignoring the questions for the moment to search for things. She finally found a drawer with things in it, sighing with relief as she mentally listed them off.  _ Granola bar, band-aids, small… Mystery baggie?  _ Gwen didn’t know what it was, but didn’t bother to even think about it before dropping it on the ground. She was too panicked to care.

She rushed back over to David, looking his wound over again. “Okay, so- This is… This is gonna hurt a lot, I’m so sorry, I-” Gwen cut herself before looking at David, who sighed and nodded with a small ‘okay’. 

Gwen forced herself to suck it up as she took out the band-aids, using them to force together David’s wound with tissues still on his forehead. He whined, biting his fist to stop himself from yelling out.

After finally finishing forcing the wound back together, Gwen spoke, still shaking. “We- We gotta find some warmth, I’m gonna get frostbite like this. Shit.” She cussed, realizing that that was absolutely a possibility all of a sudden.

David nodded at her, holding a cold hand to his head as if it could stop the throbbing pain. “I think- I think I saw a lake nearby? I’m not sure. It might have ice fishing huts, they have little heaters in them that we could try to use.”

The latina woman sighed with relief. “Thank God you know more about Canada than I do.” She said, making David laugh.

“Well, I  _ am _ Canadian. You… Ready to do this?” He sounded apprehensive, not wanting to go back out there but knowing the pair couldn’t stay in the cold hunter’s blind. Gwen nodded with a sigh, helping pull David up from his sitting position.

With an arm wrapped around David’s waist, and one of his on her shoulder, Gwen headed out of the door to brave the blizzard once more, hoping they’d find a place to warm up before they froze to death.

 

Their walk couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes, but it felt like hours. Gwen was shivering so bad, she’d be concerned about chipping a tooth had she not been even more anxious about the man hanging off her shoulder. He looked like he was balancing on the edge of consciousness, which scared the hell around the woman that half-carried him.

Regardless, they kept marching on, finding the lake through the whiteness of the blizzard and then trekking to a stray fishing hut.

Gwen pulled David into the building, slamming the door shut on the snow behind them. Fear ran through her veins, making her skin crawl. Despite this, she sat David down on the floor so she could investigate the hut.

It was quieter in here. The wind didn’t rattle the windows as much as the hunter’s blind did. It was all one big room, a small oven-like heater by one wall with a few logs next to it. Next to it was a row of cabinets, hinges rusted but hopefully protecting something.

Gwen rushed to the heater, glad to finally have something for heat. She searched the cabinets, finding a few more logs left over from the last people who were here, then reached into her pockets to find anything for kindling. A few paper receipts and a couple one dollar bills; everything else had been lost in the blaze that was now the plane.

While she had found just enough for kindling, she didn’t have a lighter or matches with her, and she cursed at herself for quitting smoking. She turned to David who was weakly holding his head in his hand, probably thinking. He looked up at the woman.

“You don’t have any matches or lighters, do you?” She asked hopefully. David’s face fell, and Gwen cursed. “How about something for kindling? We could use more.” David rummaged through his pockets, but didn’t find much — Canadian money, which is plastic, a few coins, and a couple receipts. 

David stood up, looking around to search for matches with Gwen. He jumped, exclaiming “There!” before reaching at a shelf above Gwen’s head. She sighed with relief, grabbing the matches from David’s hands quickly and reaching into the tiny oven.

With a spark like magic, the match lit on the first try.  _ Maybe our luck’s turning around, _ Gwen thought, lighting the kindling under the logs and watching it go up in flames.

She didn’t feel the warmth immediately, the nerves in her fingers still numb and unfeeling from the Canadian cold. The woman sat down next to the heater, and David sat huddled up next to her, hugging the heat of both the growing fire and Gwen.

The woman reached into her pocket, pulling out the granola bar she had found in the hunter’s blind. She opened it, split it in half, and shoved the bigger half in David’s face. “Eat.” She demanded, stress making her sound short tempered. He obeyed, taking a small bite of the granola bar.

As he ate, Gwen began to relax. The warmth that was beginning to sink in, and knowing David would be okay at least for the moment was comforting. She reached into her pocket once again, checking for her phone.

“Shit,” she muttered as she realized it wasn’t there. “Do you have a phone?”

David checked his pockets, pulling out his phone and clicking the power button. Nothing happened. He held it for a moment, and still nothing happened. He rested his arm on his legs, exhausted. “It probably just got wet. It’ll work again soon.” His voice was clipped and soft, just a grain of anger on his optimistic outlook. Gwen knew that the thing probably was useless, cracked and soaked from the snow, too cold to function anyways.

The tall and lanky man carefully touched the coat around his shoulders, then leaned forwards to take it off. “What are you doing?” Gwen asked. David looked kindly at her.

“Giving you your coat back. You need it!” He said, a small smile on his face and Gwen wondered how he managed that. 

“No, you do. You have a brain injury, David.” She deadpanned.

“And you’ve been running around trying to make sure it doesn’t kill me, um… Did I forget your name?” David asked, looking bashful.

Gwen didn’t know if she had already told him her name, but it worried her more than it would have offended her. What if his memory was affected by his injury? She thought back, trying to remember if she ever introduced herself, and she couldn’t remember ever having done so, a small spark of relief in the cold wilderness they were now trapped in.

“Gwen. And you’re keeping the coat.” She demanded. David sighed in reply. Quietly, he just moved to have one part of the coat hung over Gwen’s shoulder while moving closer to share the coat.

“Does that work?” David asked with a smile on his face. Gwen scanned his mirthful eyes, wondering how he could possibly still keep that sunshine in them after this.

“Fine,” she sighed, leaning into David and just enjoying the grey warmth that was slowly taking over the small hut.

Gwen knew that they would have to leave eventually, if rescue didn’t come soon. The wind shook the building, making it shudder under the cold just like the people inside. It retained heat well enough for today’s blizzard that was becoming worse with each minute, but unless someone came soon, they would have to move. To where, she honestly had no idea, and hoped that she wouldn’t have to think about it any time soon.

David shifted next to her, his body relaxing.

“Don’t fall asleep.” She said quickly.

“Why?” David whined childishly. “I’m so sleepy, why not-”

“You might die.”

With that, David stiffened, eyes widening as he turned to look at Gwen.

“You got a concussion. If there’s any internal bleeding while you’re asleep, you could…” She trailed off, not wanting to imagine it. This — sharing a coat with David as they waited for the heat to settle in — was as close to hope as she could get for now. She didn’t want to imagine waking up to losing it. “Let’s just… Talk for now. What about your family?”

David was happy to talk about his family, speaking fondly of all of them. Gwen just listened, focusing on the flames that crackled and spit in the oven. Conversation continued until the sun set, darkness leaking into the cabin. Gwen slowly fell asleep, leaning on David’s shoulder and hoping when she woke up, rescue would be there to save them.


	3. I Apologize For All Your Tears — Day Two

The cold chewed through his hoodie, biting at his skin as he marched his way through the blizzard. The snow was not as violent as it had been earlier, but every flake of it that grazed his sensitive skin battered him more.

He was separated from his family, unknown to the survivors of the crash. For all he knew, he was the only living thing within a mile of himself, though he was sure that if he didn’t find shelter soon, ‘living’ might not describe him anymore. He shuddered as he looked up, trying to break through the blizzard to find shelter, anything more than the harsh Canadian wilderness he had found himself stranded in.

First it was a small figure in the distance, and as he made his way closer, he saw a small hut with frosted over windows, shaking almost as much as he was under the power of the wind. He rushed into the structure, slamming the door shut behind him as he sighed with relief.

Adrenaline still pumped through him, sending him wandering around the hut and searching for anything he could use to make a fire. He gathered up the logs next to the oven and threw them in, gathered together splintered wood and dead leaves for kindling. After searching through cabinets, he found a pack of matches, but his cold and shaking hands had trouble lighting them. Almost half of the pack was dead, and when he finally got one to catch fire, he wanted to sob with relief.

The kindling in the oven caught quick, and for now, he was safe. He fell to the floor, moving to lean against the wall to support his aching body. Though the window next to him was frosted over, he still looked out of it, staring at his reflection.

His black curls were covered in frost, slowly melting away under the power of the fire next to him. His face was a million different shades of grey, the dark tone of his skin becoming paler, mingling with his bruises and a wide cut on his cheek. He shuddered again, a thought running through his head —  _ what happened to my parents? _

He was a kid, surely if he could survive this, his parents would too. It was a simple promise, one he didn’t believe in, but he told himself it nonetheless.

The sky darkened under the power of the blizzard as the sun set, and soon, the snow began to clear. The kid in his small hut felt tiredness settling deep inside of him, but adrenaline kept him awake, kept him feeding the fire and huddling close to it, trying to stave off the freeze outside. The hut was old enough that cabinets were falling apart, perfect to throw in the oven with the fire.

But as the night went on, it became harder and harder for him to keep pulling himself up to feed the fire again. When it died down, all he could do was wait until the cold sunk in, giving him the motivation to make the fire bigger again. But soon, he couldn’t even manage that anymore.

The window’s frost had faded, and now he could see the light coming from the hut next to him. But for now, it was dark and cold outside, and he was tired. Though he had always seen grey, he had the thought that out here, it wouldn’t matter — the white snow and black bark of the dying trees outside was all that there was to see.

The sun began it’s climb up the horizon, and the kid in his hut made a quiet and half hearted promise to himself that, if he woke up, he would do everything he could to survive this.

 

Gwen stirred, the morning wind bringing her back to her aching body. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, greeting the scene in front of her. It was not familiar, nor was it welcome, but it wasn’t unexpected. Her body still remembered everything from yesterday, as much as she regretted it.

She moved up, feeling the weight of David leaning on her. A shot of panic ran through her, and she grabbed his shoulder to shake him once, and harder when he didn’t stir.

“David?” She demanded. Immediately, her anxiety flared up.  _ What if his concussion- What if he didn’t make it? Is he…? _

Her mind went silent as the tall man stirred, groaning and touching a hand to his head. The tissues from yesterday were still bandaged on there, but they were now soaked with blood and matted to his forehead. He winced as his hand met the makeshift bandage, but he recovered quickly to look at Gwen.

She sighed with relief. “Oh, thank God,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around herself to shield herself from the cold. It had sunk in over the night after the fire faded out, but the house had retained heat well enough for the pair to have survived without getting frostbite. “You feeling okay?” She asked.

David nodded. “Yeah. Really achy, but well enough considering.” He offered an unenthusiastic but still genuine smile. Gwen let out a soft chuckle, glad to see he still could manage a smile. 

She moved to stand up as she spoke. “Good. We need to find something to drink, I’m-” Gwen cut herself off as she leaned on her foot, a sharp pain shooting up her leg as she leaned on it. “Shit!” She cursed, leaning on the wall again.

David jumped at her reaction. “Are you okay?” He asked quickly, standing up to help support her.

Gwen hissed with pain. She had been so cold and distracted yesterday that she hadn’t noticed the fact her foot had swollen inside of her boot, and a toe was probably broken. Now that it was throbbing with pain, it was all she could think about. “Yeah, I just- I think I broke a toe.” She moved to sit herself down again, trying to pull her boot off.

David turned, calling out an “I’ll be right back!” before walking off to rummage around the hut, looking for something. Gwen just watched him buzz from place to place, gathering anything he deemed useful.

When he came back, he held the pack of band-aids Gwen had used yesterday and left by the oven, a small and possibly empty bottle of painkillers, and his small and thin vest. He looked up to Gwen with a caring look in his eyes and a small smile of comfort. “Can you take off your sock too?”

Gwen struggled with it, her body responding with pain as she struggled with taking it off. When she managed it, David thanked her, muttering hopeful words and assuring her that it’d be over soon, he sorry about touching it and  _ it’s this toe right? _

He ripped off a strip of his vest, balling it up and carefully using it to tie together the broken appendage, and while Gwen kept wincing with pain, David apologized for every little movement he made.

When he finished, he handed Gwen the bottle of painkillers. “There’s not much left in here, but you should take them. Try to elevate your foot when you can, and normally I’d suggest putting ice on it, but frostbite is a pretty big risk for now.” He explained. Gwen looked in the bottle and poured out all the painkillers there were, taking only one of the five and swallowing it dry. “Try not to walk on it too much.”

Gwen thanked David as she put on her sock and shoe again, the support from it helping the pain begin to die down. “We need to get the fire going again. Then find a way to get some water.” Gwen listed off, making a mental checklist of everything that they needed to do.

She stood up again, putting all of her weight on her heel. David opened his mouth to mention it, but Gwen spoke first. “We can’t get much done if I’m just sitting here.” She moved, picking up her jacket as she looked out of the window. “We really need more wood for the fire, and we don’t have anymore kindling. You’ll get frostbite in seconds out there with how thin you are.”  
David couldn’t argue — he had always been very stalky, and the cold was already beginning to make his hands stiffen and lose feeling. 

“There are other huts. I’ll just head to the ones next to us, and if anything happens, I’ll call for you, okay?” David still looked worried, but Gwen turned away and headed for the door. She didn’t want to do this either, but she knew neither of them would survive for much longer if she didn’t.

“Be really carefully, okay?” David’s voice was filled with concern, and Gwen looked over at him for a second and recalled how much she hated the grey she saw. He looked like a picture waiting to be drawn, a thought pulled from an artist’s head.

“I will.” She promised before walking out into the cold wind.

 

There was much less snow in the air than there was the previous day, and the walk to the hut nextdoor was short. The outside matched the one Gwen was staying in almost identically.

The inside did not.

When she walked in, she could smell the smoldering embers in the oven, having blown out long enough ago that only it’s smell remained. Next to it, a small body was curled into itself, back against the wall and head tilted to the side. It was a kid, one who had either fallen asleep, or… 

Gwen didn’t even want to think of it.

Her breath came to her heavy, panicking as she reached over to the kid. He had a deep cut in his cheek, and his face was a different shade wherever you looked. Carefully, Gwen pressed the back of her hand to his neck.

It was faint, but it was there. A small and lightly thumping pulse, warm on her skin.

“Oh my God,” Gwen muttered, her head spinning as she tried to figure out what to do. Weight on her chest, spinning, heart pounding as shook-

She put her hands against her head and breathed deeply, reasoning with herself.  _ Panic later. You have a job to do. _ She was still shaking, but built up enough resolve to pick the kid up, one arm around his back and the other around the bend in his knees. 

Gwen rushed outside, running straight for the small building her and David were staying in. “David!” She called.

The man heard the panic in her voice and jumped, running to the door to look at the woman. “What-” He quickly cut himself off seeing the situation, feeling Gwen’s panic rise up in himself as well.

She rushed into the hut, talking quickly as she put the kid down. “I think he’s okay, he just needs to get warm. What do we do? David, I don’t-” She took a moment to breathe, panic twisted with every breath she took. After a breath, she was able to try and look composed, but she felt no different.

David had the mark of anxiety stained on him. He looked at the kid in front of him and all he could see was his students, how easily it could have been one of them. It made him sick to his stomach to think of it, but now the image wouldn’t leave his head.

In the hopes of finding something else to focus on, anything, he wrapped his arms around Gwen and closed his eyes.  _ Come up with a plan, anything,  _ he told himself, but his head was fogged with more pictures that just made his want to squirm.

Gwen breathed out a few more times, accepting David’s hug and seeming to have shaken out her anxiety for a moment. “Okay.” She muttered. “Okay, so we… I’ll go back out and find stuff for a fire, water, and food quickly, then we… Shit.” She cursed, trying to come up with a way to fix this but drawing blanks.

“We’ll play it by ear. I’ll stay here and make sure he’s okay, try and find something that’ll help. Come back right away if anything happens, okay?” David spoke softly, hoping that it would offer comfort.

If it did, Gwen could not identify it. “I will. I’ll be as fast as I can, just…” She trailed off as she stood up, staring at the sleeping kid. He looked almost calm, body loose as he leaned against the wall. His chest rose with short, small breaths, but he was breathing, and that felt like a miracle itself.

Gwen sighed and pushed out into the wilderness again, feeling the cold wash over her again.

 

The ice fishing hut to the other side of them had no door, and snow had begun to pile in at the entryway. Gwen looked around at the cabinets and oven — it looked like someone had a mental breakdown in the small building. The cabinet doors had been smashed, one of them ripped off of it’s rusty hinges. The oven didn’t fare much better, now reduced to torn apart metal and sharp shards of iron that pointed in every direction. 

Gwen felt unsettled in the cabin. It looked almost like a crime scene, a hatchet laying on the floor next to the oven. She leaned over and picked it up.  _ This must be the murder weapon. _ She joked to herself. Regardless, she knew it would be useful, a memory from her childhood coming up.

It wasn’t an experience of her own, but a book. A young boy had gotten into a plane crash and survived with just an axe like this one. Of course, it wasn’t winter in the book from what she remembered, but maybe she’d remember something useful.

Gwen continued to look through the smashed cabinets, picking up the splintered boards. They hadn’t been too affected by the snow that had come in, and were dry enough to burn. A small stack of newspaper sat in one of the cabinets with a pack of matches on top, and Gwen added it to the quickly growing pile of loot. 

She struggled to grab the last few items she found — a neatly folded winter coat and two frozen cans of soda — with how much wood she had already grabbed, but the hut made her uneasy. If she could avoid coming back here, she would.

She looked back at the destroyed oven before turning back outside, heading straight for the shelter she was sharing. The sun rose high above her head, and the snow showed no signs of even a mild thaw under it’s power. Gwen sighed and simply pushed her way into her hut again.

David had set up their last remaining logs in the oven, but struggled to light them. He was sitting on the floor, holding the last few matches from last night and trying to light them with no success.

“Are they dead?” Gwen asked. David looked up as she put down all of the items she had taken on top of the cabinets.

“I think so.” David sighed. Gwen grabbed the newspaper she had taken and showed David the pack of matches with a smile on her face. David sighed with relief, standing up and silently taking over the task of lighting the fire.

Gwen placed the two cans of soda she had found close enough to the oven to warm then before looking over to the kid leaning on the wall, still sleeping. “Anything from him?” She asked, to which David shook his head. Gwen sighed and grabbed the winter coat she found to put it over the kid like a blanket before sitting next to him, letting her foot and broken toe ache as she relaxed.

The kid, weakly and slowly, pulled the coat closer to him, hugging the warmth it offered.

Gwen and David both heard the shuffling, turning to look at him. His eyebrows furrowed as he pulled his knees up and began to shiver, wrapping the coat tighter around him. 

David leapt from his spot by the oven, rushing over to the boy while Gwen quietly spoke to herself. “What do I do?” She muttered. She had never been much good around kids, and had no idea what to do.

“Hey, hey kiddo, can you look at me?” David asked, and the shivering kid looked up slowly. “Good, are you okay? Can you tell us your name?”

The kid’s eyes burned into the tall man’s, reflecting confusion and defensiveness and fear. “Max.” He said quietly, his voice raspy and dry. “Where… We’re…” His memories slowly came back, the sensation of the cold all sinking back in and twisting in his chest with every shivering breath.

“Don’t worry, Max, you’re safe. My name’s David, and this is Gwen.” David explained, and Max looked over to the woman who crouched next to him. She waved shyly, her social anxiety kicking in and making her regret the small movement. “I just made a fire so it’ll warm up soon, and we’ll have water ready as soon as we can. Are you hurt?”

Max looked around for a moment, trying to scan the situation as best as he could. He didn’t know these people, and for now his memories were spotty at best. Regardless, he didn’t have many options but to put some faith in the two strangers here. He shook his head. 

“Just cold, did… What happened?” He asked.

Gwen spoke. “You were on the flight, right?” She hesitated. Max nodded somberly. “That was yesterday. I found you in the cabin next door this morning, brought you back here. You sure you’re okay? You look really shaken up.”

Max nodded. He fared better than David and Gwen did, but one question was burned in his mind; where were his parents?

“God damn it,” Gwen sighed. “Rescue should be here by now.”

She said it in the hopes of making herself believe they would come at all. She knew it was winter somewhere in the middle of Saskatchewan, and there weren’t just people around to come and save them, but she had to keep the hope alive. Still a bitter thought in her mind echoed.

_ They’re not coming. _

She got up, standing if only to shake off the thought. “I’ll warm that soda up, we could use the sugar. It’s definitely not gonna be the best thing you’ve ever tasted, kid.” Gwen joked lightly as she grabbed the frozen cola cans, holding one closer to the fire in the hopes of thawing it faster.

“You don’t know where your parents are, do you?” David asked the kid.

“No, I…” He trailed off, trying to remember. The beginning lights of a memory rested on the horizon of his mind, but refused to get any brighter. Something had happened, and it made him sick to try and remember it. “No. I don’t know.” He reaffirmed.

The room went quiet from there, no ideas for conversation to be stirred. Max didn’t want to ask what they had seen yesterday; no one wanted to be reminded of it. Gwen and David, on the other hand, were more concerned about what to do for food. Their only options for the moment had been exhausted, and for now, they would just have to settle on going hungry tonight and hoping to find food tomorrow.

“Any plans for now?” David asked.

“I think we need to find a new spot for homebase soon, and food as fast as we can. If rescue isn’t here by morning…” She trailed off, the reality of the possibility sinking in. “If they’re not here, we’ll start making more long-term plans.” Gwen felt the can of soda she held, glad to feel that shaking around the liquid inside didn’t feel cold. She walked over to the two people sitting by the fire and opened the can, handing it to Max first. 

It was warm and syrupy, but at the moment being, that was a good thing. The sugar helped relax him, and he felt a touch less stressed with the sweetness. The drink was passed around until it was finished, everyone relaxing just a bit with the warm sugar in their bodies.

Max leaned back on the wall. His shivering had lightened, but his face still felt cold. The hut had begun to warm up with the fire, and tiredness was beginning to settle in again.

“You can go back to sleep, if you want.” David said, noticing how tired the kid looked. “It’s been a pretty stressful day. It’ll be better in the morning, I promise.”

Max scanned the adult next to him again, and his caring smile helped the kid believe him. He crossed his arms, pulling into himself again for warmth and letting the sounds of the crackling fire fade into dreams.


	4. Don't Give Up On Me — Day Three

The early morning light revealed a windless day, along with the lake they had come to call shelter. The snowstorm had now completely passed, and with it, Max was able to clearly see into the camp they had stumbled into.

He had gotten up early, his body having had enough sleep and now aching for food. He watched the sun rise above the mountains, staining the landscape with bright light as it revealed his new world.

Gwen and David must have woken up in the night and kept the fire going, because it was still crackling when he woke, albeit rather lightly. Max stood up, his legs aching under the pressure of carrying himself. He figured being asleep for so long had affected him, along with the cold he had suffered through.

Quietly, as to not awake the two sleeping adults, he grabbed the last few splintered pieces of wood to carefully poke them in the fire. He had only ever been camping a few times, and didn’t like being too close to the flames.

The smell of it made him miss home. It was a faint memory, from before a lot of things changed, and it couldn’t even paint a full picture. Just a few flashes of sensations; the taste of warm and sticky sugar in his mouth, the smell of campfire and pine, birds singing high above where he could reach. A smile and a laugh from someone he thought he should know, but couldn’t recognize.

There was none of that now, as he sat with his knees pulled up to his chest in front of the oven. There were no birds to sing in the middle of this winter. No smiles or laughter — no happiness until they found food.

Max’s mouth was dry, and it came to his attention quickly when he tried to change the subjects of his thoughts. He saw the soda cans from yesterday, both empty and with the tops pried off. The edges of the aluminum were jagged and looked unsafe, but both cans were filled with warm water. Refilled with snow, probably.

The kid took one of the cans, and carefully drank the water as the sun climbed up the horizon soundlessly.

 

When David stirred, he was almost able to forget where he was. For one second, the cushioned warmth on his shoulder was a memory of home, nights where he fell asleep in the living room on his recliner. It wasn’t a comfortable thing by any means, and you were able to feel the metal on the inside when you were in most positions, but now even the memory of it felt like home. The warm comfort was not home, though. It was another person like him, trying to survive.

He opened his eyes, the dry warmth of the fishing hut sinking in. The world was quiet, except for the continued crackling of the fire. Looking around, not much had changed from when he had first fallen asleep; Gwen was leaned on his shoulder, sleeping calmly, and the fire was still strong. Max had moved to sit in front of it, knees pulled up to his chest and hiding his face. He didn’t react to the adult slowly waking up, just staring bitterly into the fire.

“Morning, Max.” David said with a yawn. The kid’s gaze flickered over to David for a moment, but looked to the fire again quickly.

“G’morning.” He replied with unenthusiastically.

“You feeling okay?” David asked, and Max just nodded. “You seem upset.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” He spat, sitting up straight to look at David. His eyes were intense and bore into the adult’s, a story larger than him being reflected but not told.

David didn’t speak, not knowing what to say in response. Max, of course, had every reason to be upset, and while David’s words had been mostly out of habit, he wanted to make everyone as happy as they possibly could be in this situation.

Max slowly released the tension from his body, turning back to look at the fire. “Thinkin’ about my parents.” He admitted. “And I’m starving.”

David moved to stand up, carefully shaking Gwen’s shoulder to wake her up. “I’m not too sure how much I can do to help that first problem, unless you think talking about it might help. Food, though, we’re going to fix as soon as we can.”

Gwen mumbled incoherently as she woke up, and Max’s gaze flickered over the two. There was a thought in the back of his head, and as small as it was, it was comforting in a bitter and sorrowful way.

_I guess it could be worse._

“I think we’re gonna have to go and find a new spot to make base for now. Rescue should be here soon enough, but this place is a bit drafty. Plus, if we can find a phone or radio, we’ll get found much faster.” David said, standing up. He took a minute to regain his balance, his concussion still throwing him off.

Gwen muttered agreement, grabbing the coat from her shoulders and pulling it up. “One problem, we only have two coats, and we’re three people.”

David opened his mouth to say something, but Max spoke first. “I have my hoodie. I’ll be fine.” The kid stood up quickly and put his back to the fire.

“Max, you’re going to need as much warmth as you can-”

“What are you gonna do about it? You’re a _twink,_ David.”

Gwen let out a joyful laugh while David stammered. “Max! Don’t say that!” He eventually got out.

“Well I’m not just gonna _lie_ to you!” Max exclaimed, and Gwen just laughed harder. David’s face had gone dark, a beet red that no one in the hut could see. The tall man stuttered for a moment longer as Gwen put a hand on his shoulder.

“Okay, I think he’s had enough.” She said in between giggles. “We should head out. I’m starving.” Max grabbed the coat that he was wearing and pulled it off, handing it to David who, this time, didn’t argue.

Everyone, with a small bit of light in their hearts, made their way out the door into the clear day.

 

It was a silent wasteland, and without the wind, you could hear your own heartbeat if you stood still for long enough. The ice fishing hut the group had made camp in was just one of a row of five of them, wrapping around what was most likely a lake — they couldn’t see the frozen over water to prove the thought with all of the snow from the blizzard.

Regardless, David made a point to tell Max and Gwen to stay as close to the huts as possible. “If you think you’re stepping on ice, move away. Just don’t fall in.”

Gwen looked over the snow on the lake, a cold memory returning to her. Growing up in Queens, closer to the center of New York City, you had to travel for quite some time to reach the peaceful pine forests farther north. Still, she remembered her parents taking the time to drive her and her sister, Isabella, to a lake up there, both of them still young and full of life.

They had wanted to learn how to ice skate, Gwen remembered. Isabella had always been better at roller skating than Gwen, and it was her idea to learn. It was almost her who fell in. The warning groan of the ice was a sound Gwen would never forget, nor was the first break in the ice; it was a crack like a gunshot and a tiny yelp.

Matìas Martinez was probably the greatest father Gwen and Isabella could have asked for. Out of all of Gwen’s memories of him, she liked to remember the way he rushed over at the first sound of the cracking ice and scooped up Isabella right as the ice splintered into the bitter dark grey lake water. She still remembered his fretful stare, speaking in Spanish as he talked to isabella. “ _Why didn’t you move?_ ” He asked, and Isabella just held her shaking body as she shrugged.

Gwen hadn’t even had the time to put on her skates when they decided they would find something safer to do. At the time, she was glad to not have to be shown up by her sister. Now, she thought she’d give almost anything to relive that small vacation they’d had.

The memory made her miss her family so much that it hurt. It would be Christmas soon enough, and Gwen had been so upset to miss it in the hopes of publishing her book. Har family was more than understanding, but given the current situation, she wished she had done anything differently.

“Look!” David called out suddenly, pulling Gwen out of her head. She had mindlessly followed while they turned away from the lake, through a small beaten path that led to a small building on a large tower. “A fire watch station. There has to be someone there!” David said joyfully before breaking out into a sprint toward the station.

Gwen and Max followed quickly, running as fast as their aching bodies would allow them. David rushed up the stairs, looking in the window of the door. His face fell and he sighed.

“It’s… Closed for the season.” He said dejectedly, looking at the sign in the door as Gwen and Max caught up to him. The latina woman next to him cursed.

“There’s probably a radio in there. How do we get in?” Gwen asked.

David opened the door, not surprised to see it unlocked. “Welcome to Canada!” He said cheerily before walking into the station.

The place looked like it had been left in a hurry, items having been scattered all over a lonely desk and countertops. There were books on top of folders filled to the brim with papers, a desk lamp sitting precariously on top of the whole mess. A furnace was tucked in the corner, and next to it was a firewood rack that was filled with dry wood. A switch for a generator hung on the wall next to a stove, smashed and ready to fall at any second. A staircase led to a second floor, and it was one of the only things in the tower that didn’t look decrepit.

The station was nowhere near home for any of it’s newest guests, but it was a blessing regardless.

The group walked around, investigating the station. “Well, it’s much better than that ice fishing hut.” David said, a smile on his face as he closed the door behind everyone.

“Yeah, but everything in here’s destroyed.” Gwen fretted as she looked around. It looked like someone had come in just to break things; the generator switch was unusable, the desk lamp’s bulb was shattered and left glass everywhere, and though there was a sink, its faucet had been beaten until broken with something blunt and heavy. The window had been boarded up as well, though for what reason, she couldn’t tell.

Max was shuffling around the papers on the desk, looking at the books and folders. Most of the books could easily be labelled one of the worst ones ever published, things like _Twilight_ and _Fifty Shades Of Grey._ Max shoved the books to the side, rummaging through the mess of papers. As he looked through them, it seemed that maybe the huts weren’t for ice fishing, but were a summer camp — a very underfunded one, at that. The files were mostly bills for things like the generator, water, power, but occasionally Max would come across a file for the kids, contact info and the like.

To him, it just looked good for kindling.

After moving some papers to the side, something fell out from under the pile, setting off an avalanche of papers, books, the shattered desk lamp and it’s broken glass. Max jumped and tried to grab the falling items, instead grabbing a shard of glass. “Fuck!” He called out, pulling his hand away quickly

Gwen and David looked over quickly. “Are you okay?” Gwen jumped to ask, rushing over to check on the kid.

“Yeah.” Max confirmed, holding the cut on his palm. It wasn’t deep, but instead hurt sorely. “I think something fell.” He said, using the toe of his shoe to sort through the papers and glass. As he moved a folder, it revealed an orange device that looked like a walkie talkie.

“Radio!” Gwen gasped and hurried to grab it, flipping on the power and holding down the button to send a signal.

It made no sound, no crackle to show it was sending anything. “Hello? Is anyone there?” She spoke into the device as she sat down on the floor. She tried to keep faith that it was sending a signal, but she knew.

For one moment, Gwen’s whole world went silent, waiting for someone to save it. For one moment, she believed rescue was out there, looking for the optimistic man that she pulled out of a blizzard. Looking for the confused and rightfully angry kid she barely kept from freezing to death. For one moment, she believed they were looking for her, too.

It’s funny, how hope is so porcelain in it’s fragility. You can do everything in your power to keep it safe; keep it locked up in it’s beautifully decorated glass castle, accompanied by it’s still fragile family, never go near it for the fear that you’ll stumble and break it. But the truth is, if there was even a hairline crack to begin with, it’s already broken. All you really have to do is wait for it to fall apart.

“Fuck.” Gwen muttered quietly, her heart climbing into her throat. “ _Fuck!_ ” She snapped as she threw the radio to ground. Max jumped at her sudden outburst, and silently, she leaned forward, putting her hands on her head as she looked to the ground.

David quietly walked over to Gwen, cautious as he put a hand on her back. She didn’t react. “Are-” He began the question, but was smart enough not to finish it.

“I’m sorry.” She said, her voice a little watery .

“Don’t be,” David comforted. “You’ve been so put together this whole time. You worked really hard just to get us here. I’m sorry, too. I haven’t done much to help, but I promise now that my head’s better I’ll do as much as a can.”

Gwen just sat there and breathed for a moment. The tears in her eyes were making her choke on her words, and while there were so many things she wanted to say she couldn’t get any of them out. “It’s not that.” She finally squeezed out, trying not to sound like she had been crying. “I just got my hopes up.”

David smiled at her, his eyes wide and full of hope. “Well, don’t lose it just yet. I found some food in one of the cabinets! It’s probably frozen right now, but once we get a fire up and running, I’m sure we can warm it up.”

“Right.” Gwen said, sitting up straight and looking around the place. It wasn’t home, and she didn’t think she could make it one if she tried, but for now it was what they needed. “So… Shit, I should probably head back to the hut and grab the hatchet, I forgot it.” She realized.

David shook his head. “I’ll get it. Your foot’s hurt, and you need a break.”

Max had just watched the whole situation from the sidelines. He didn’t know what to say to help the upset woman in front of him, so he stayed quiet on the sidelines. “What can I do to help?” He offered. Gwen turned and looked at him.

“Shit, that’s right. Did you hurt your hand? Sorry, I just… You know.” She stood up and waved her hand in the air, trying to show what “you know” meant.

The kid hadn’t even realized he’d been holding the cut on his palm. Now that he looked at again, it seemed to feel and look worse. The wound cut straight across his right palm, and there was a great amount of blood on his left hand from when he’d been holding it. “It’s whatever. Just a cut.” He said as he shrugged, trying to wave it off as he returned to holding it. Gwen eyed him for a moment.

“Let me see it.”

Max sighed and held out his hand. “It’s no big deal, it’s just a scratch.” He said dismissively as Gwen kneeled down, looking at it as she spoke.

“We still need to patch it up, the last thing you need is to get an infection out here.” She explained before turning to David. “You head out and grab the hatchet, and _be careful._ I’ll get the fire going and check out what’s upstairs. And you’re going to come right back here if anything happens, okay?”

She sounded aggressive as she said it, but David knew that she just wanted to make sure he was safe. David nodded with a smile. “Of course!” He said happily, and walked towards the door. “Stay safe while I’m gone!” He cheered before leaving the building, shutting the door behind him tightly.

The station returned to quietness, a more peaceful kind as Gwen reached into her pockets and pulled out a small box of band-aids. They were almost gone, most having been used to force David’s head wound closed, but for now they were all they had. She spoke as she opened up a band-aid.

“It looks pretty deep, so it’s probably gonna bleed a bit more. If you find any neosporin or something, let me know.” She explained as she put the band-aid on, putting it at an angle to cover as much of the kid’s palm as possible. When that didn’t cover it, she added a second one next to it. “It hurts more than you’re letting on, doesn’t it?” She laughed quietly.

Max paused. “Yeah.” He pulled his hand away and looked off to the side. “Let’s just get a fire going.” He quickly tried to change the subject, and Gwen laughed.

“Alright, tough guy. Think you can clean up some of the papers over there? If anything looks important, phone numbers or something to boost morale, keep it. And be careful of the glass.” She stood up and walked to the desk, grabbing a few random sheets of paper before going to the furnace.

Max walked to the desk and began to swipe the broken glass off of the desk into his uninjured hand, carefully as he put it in the trash bin next to him. As he sifted through the papers, putting most in a ‘burn’ pile, he began to see more of a variety in the sheets he was finding; what was boring files about kids at a summer camp became infographics on trees in Saskatchewan, postcards for towns most people haven’t heard of, even a brochure on gun safety paired with a guide on rifle care. Max was mostly nervous about the fact that despite all of the gun safety booklets, there was no gun to be found.

Gwen had set up the kindling with logs in the furnace, but to her dismay, the leftover matches she had were dead. After a long struggle with the last one, it finally caught, and the fire started quickly.

“Hey, Gwen?” Max started, sounding apprehensive. Gwen hummed in response. “What’re your parents like?”

The woman turned to look at Max, seeing only that he was preoccupied by his sorting through the papers. “They were good.” She said, turning back to the fire. “My dad was the cook of the family and always made us big meals for dinner, and mom told me and my siblings the greatest bedtime stories.”

It was quiet for a long moment, Gwen making sure the wood was catching fire properly and Max focusing on organizing the papers he found.

“I know you’re asking about my parents because you’re thinking of your’s.” Gwen admitted. “Listen, you’re a mature kid, and I don’t want to lie to you. I have no idea how many people made it out of that plane alive. I don’t know if we’re the unlucky bastards who didn’t get help quick enough or if it’s a miracle we made it this far. I want to tell you that your parents are out there and looking for you. But I can’t.”

Max had frozen, looking through the papers and desk in front of him.

“I’m sorry, Max.”

He returned to going through the files, trying to formulate a reply. His silence wasn’t out of anger or sorrow, but simply out of the fact he didn’t know what to tell Gwen if it wasn’t everything. Over the day, bits and pieces of the crash had come back to him, and it hurt to remember everything that had happened to him. To everyone else.

Max felt something foreign in his chest, and the room went back to silence, a weight having been lifted that no one had really known was there.

When the fire had been going strong for long enough to keep the station warm, Gwen took off her jacket and began warming up the cans of food that had David left on the counters. Max finished organizing the papers not long after, and decided to sit down on the floor in front of the furnace.

“Still haven’t explored upstairs if you wanna do that. Or check the cabinets for, I dunno, coloring supplies? What do you do for fun?”

Max laughed. “I’m good.” He said and looked at his hands. The tips of his fingers had gone pale, and some painful blisters were beginning to form. He just sighed and tucked his hands into the crook of his elbow. “Did you find anything else?” He asked Gwen.

“Yeah, there’s about two or three days worth of food here, more if we eat less, but hopefully we won’t have to worry about that. I found a pan, too, and an almost empty first aid kit. It has bandages and gauze, so if you want to switch out those band-aids for your cut, let me know. Found a lamp and gas for it, lines and hooks for fishing, some cups, and a cookbook. Not too sure how useful that’ll be.” She said as she moved the cans of food closer to the furnace. “How about you?”

Max shrugged. “Lots of books, none that look interesting. There was a empty notebook and a lot of pencils and pens, some postcards and brochures and shit. Mostly just kindling.”

Gwen nodded in response, quiet for a moment before David came in, stomping the snow off his boots and shutting the door behind him quickly.

“Sorry that took so long!” He called out, a smile on his face. He held the hatchet, as well as a large armful of wooden planks.

“What took so long?” Gwen asked, concerned.

“I got the hatchet, but then I figured I should get some more wood for the fire, so I broke up the cabinets in the hut. I also carved out an SOS into a tree, that took a lot longer than I thought it would.” He explained, going over to the wood rack and dropping all of the wood he had gotten. “I should probably head out, check the other huts around the lake and get more firewood for the night.” David seemed more determined to help than ever, despite the fact his body was one big bruise, a mottled mess of greys in a thousand different shades.

“I don’t care what you want to do, you’re eating first.” Gwen demanded, and David laughed, giving in and sitting down next to Max by the fire. “Tomato soup good for you all?”

The promise of food was something everyone was excited for, no matter what their thoughts on tomato soup really were.

Their bellies were not full by any means, but the energy they had with the soup was a welcome gift. The whole air seemed lighter, the dim firewatch station becoming a bit brighter with optimism.

David left the station again, assuring everyone he would be back before sunset, which was drawing surprisingly fast. Gwen let Max relax by the fire as she explored upstairs, but it wasn’t long before the kid became restless and began to wander around, looking around and trying to find something useful to do.

Upstairs was the museum of what used to be someone’s room. Everything in the room was coated with a thick layer of dust, from the large bed in the corner to the strange combination of a map and a table that sat next to an armoire. Gwen looked at the map table, leaning over it to see what it showed.

The map showed too much of the area to really be useful, other than revealing the large river and dam that sat about ten miles away from where she thought they were. It also showed that the only seemingly major city anywhere was too far south to even hope to walk to.

She moved away from it and opened the armoire. It was near empty, holding a heavy coat, a toque, a backpack, and a clean but dusty pair of socks. After finding what she thought was everything, Gwen took the pan she had found and ran outside quickly, putting as much snow in it as she could before coming back in and putting it on top of the furnace to boil.

When David came in, he seemed tired but happy as he dumped the rest of the firewood on top of the last. He took a minute to breathe before putting the hatchet down on a counter and approaching Max, who sat at the now cleared off desk and was doodling in the notebook he’d found with a spare pencil.

“What are you doing there?” He asked with friendliness.

“I was making list of the stuff we found, but… I think I got distracted.” Max was absolutely right. The list had devolved into sketches of things like the furnace and the bed upstairs, even making crude doodles of _Twilight_ characters, as inspired by what he had heard about the book and the book that sat on top of a stack of books next to him. David laughed at Max’s messy handwriting and art.

“I think it looks great!”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, David.” He said, rolling his eyes with a soft smile.

“What? They’re funny!” He laughed. “The sun’s going down any minute, we should probably get a bit more food and water in us before we go to bed, yeah?”

After drinking warm water and eating more soup, they all went to the dusty bed, falling asleep quickly with the thought that, surely, rescue would come for them tomorrow.

Surely.

 


	5. What If You Don't Want me Here? — Day Four

Gwen was strangely comfortable when she woke up.

She was still in pain, her foot throbbing and whole body sore, but with all of the blankets they had gathered and the fire that they had kept going through the night, along with the warmth of Max and David sleeping peacefully beside her, she was almost content.

If not for the fact that she desperately needed to pee, it would have been as good as it could have been.

David had, at some point, wrapped his arms around the woman next to him, holding her close and keeping her warm. She poked the man in the shoulder carefully, trying not to shake the bed enough to wake Max. 

“David,” She whispered harshly. “Let go, I gotta get up.”

David began to wake up, but instead held Gwen tighter. His voice was stained with sleep as he spoke. “Ssnooo,” He drew out. “S’cold out there. And you’re warm.” 

Gwen’s heart clenched at the David’s words, and she wished she could stay too. As reluctant as she was to admit it, she liked almost everything about this situation. But when she thought about it, she knew that once the rescue teams came, it would all be over. Maybe they would keep in touch if they were lucky, but who knew what would happen after this was all over?

That thought only reminded her of Max, and the things he had admitted last night. What would happen to him? Surely, he’d get thrown back into the system, but what concerned Gwen was how in the world he could find a family who would understand after all of this.

Another tighten around her midsection pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Move your ass, David.” Gwen demanded. “I gotta take a piss.”

David mumbled something incoherent as he moved away, letting Gwen get out of the blankets and into the chilled air of the fire watch station. She shivered for a moment, rushing over to the armoire to grab the jacket she had thrown in before going to sleep.

They were lucky to have found this place. Now that they had a place to stay that retained heat better, they could focus on less immediate threats.

Gwen made her way downstairs, and the smell of smoke tracing her face for a moment. She looked over to the furnace, but the embers there had smoldered out not long ago, and the smell was too strong to be coming from it. She shrugged it off as a trick of the mind, and zipped her jacket shut as she made her way outside.

The smell was stronger outside, but she just shrugged it off, using the front of her jacket to cover her nose to protect her from the smell of smoke.

Digging out the outhouse at the edge of the forest was not a fun affair, especially with the fact Gwen didn’t have nearly enough layers on for playing in the snow. The reward, at least, was worth the numbness in her fingertips and toes.

When she had finished, she quickly made her way to the station in the hopes of getting the fire going as quickly as possible, only to see a very sleepy David starting it up.

“Morning.” She said, closing the door tightly behind her.

David turned to her with a tired but enthusiastic expression. “Good morning!” 

“Did Max get up with you?” She asked. David shook his head.

“He’s still in bed. I figured he should probably rest a bit more.”

“That’s good. Once he gets up, we’ll all have something to eat and make plans for that day. Sound good?”

“That sounds great!”

David’s optimism was confusing and wearisome to Gwen, but she simply shrugged it off, deciding there were more important things to do as they waited for Max to wake up.

 

He was in the same state Gwen was when he made his way downstairs, already wearing his hoodie. “Where’s the bathroom in this shithole?” Max cursed. Gwen couldn’t tell if he was more irritated than he usually was, but ignored it.

“There’s an outhouse right outside. It’s got some toilet paper in it if you need it.”

“I’m sure frozen TP is fun to use.” Max said grumpily as he drew his hood and tightened it around his face. He marched out, standing tall. “Jesus Christ!” He yelled as he stepped outside.

David and Gwen looked over quickly.

“Why did no one mention the fucking cabin out there got  _ set on fire? _ ” He yelled angrily. David and Gwen jumped up and walked outside with Max.

A tall pillar of black smoke rose above the lake they had come from, sinking it’s dark claws into the bright sky and splitting it. The smell of smoke hung even heavier in the air than it did when Gwen had come out earlier, and she could even taste it on her tongue and the back of her throat now.

“How the hell…?” She muttered to herself.

“We never put out the fire in the oven.” David commented.

“No, but it was dying by the time we left. It wouldn’t have set the whole place on fire this long after we left.” She wasn’t completely sure if she was right, but she was fairly confident that if their fire had set anything alight, it would have happened sooner. The thought put a pit in her stomach, and she tried to shrug it off. “It doesn’t matter,” She said. “We got everything we needed out of there.”

Silence washed over the group, nothing but the raging sound of fire so far away filling the air, and for a moment, Gwen thought about the small collection of gaps in her memory.

_ Could I have done that? _

Logic told her no, but a whisper in the back of her head begged to differ.

She turned it off.

 

After a breakfast of peaches and boiled snow, David began trying to formulate a plan. Frankly, he had begun to feel useless, and at the very least, wanted to stay level headed. He felt panic in his fingertips when he thought about leaving the fire watch station for too long, or straying anywhere off the beaten path. It was certain that there were animals out there, ones that were just as hungry and desperate as the humans that had made a home at the abandoned lake.

Every idea that came to him was either unproductive or made him feel anxious, and he ended up staring into the fire and feeling even more useless than before.

“Do we have a plan for today?” Max asked Gwen. The woman sighed thoughtfully.

She knew that they should return to the crash sight. It had been four days, and still there was no trace of any rescue. If there could possibly be anyone clinging on after so long, they had to help.

At the same time, finding those who had not made it also had it’s morbid perks. Despite the coats they had found, everyone was still cold, and with luck, someone might have something they aren’t using anymore.

The thought came naturally to Gwen, and as soon as she processed it, she felt sick to her stomach.  _ Jesus fucking Christ, _ she thought silently,  _ why the hell would I think that? _ She could feel breath on her back, anxiety crawling through her veins.  _ Am I really that sick? Am I really willing to turn into a monster that fast? _

_ Or was I always like this? _

The thought was a whisper above everything else, and she found herself fixating on it. What if she had always been willing to put her own survival so high above everything else? What if that had been the reason Isabella-

“Gwen?” Max beckoned, pulling Gwen out of her head. She looked over to him, taking a moment to look outside of herself and at the two boys next to her. 

She reasoned with herself; there had to be a perfectly logical reason she would think something that made her feel so guilty in retrospect. She simply preyed on the fact that she had begun to care about the two boys here, and hoped that was reason enough for her.

Even reasoning with herself made her feel sick, but for now, it was the only thing taming the thought that maybe she  _ was _ a monster.

“Guess I won’t ask.” Max said, rolling his eyes looking back at the fire.

“Sorry.” Gwen said, finally snapping out of her daze. “I was thinking. We should…” She sighed with disdain. “We should go to the crash sight. We need to check for other survivors.”

Max looked at the ground, in a way that Gwen almost read as guilt, and David looked anxious at the idea. She knew how they felt, and related to it, but was level-headed enough to know that they had to go regardless.

“I just worry about leaving the tower for too long.” David explained. 

Gwen looked at him inquisitively. “Why?”

David’s gaze moved to the fire, and he hesitated. “The furnace is still going, and what if someone takes our supplies? Gwen, I don’t-” The thought only continued in his head as he cut himself off short.  _ We can’t afford to lose this, too. _

“I know. Everything… Everything should be fine. We’ll close the door to the furnace, and it should keep the place at least a little warm until we get back. I’ll grab the backpack from upstairs and then we’ll go, okay?”

Gwen moved to stand up, but David motioned his hand and moved first. “I’ll get it, and the other stuff from the wardrobe.” With that, he left Gwen and Max by the fire, the silence only broken by the soothing sound of fire crackling.

Max’s gaze hadn’t moved from the fire, a gray and ever-changing light in his eyes. Gwen scanned him, watching the way his expression changed with the flames. “Are you okay to go on the walk?” She asked.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, subconsciously moving to touch the bandaids on his hand. The woman next to him figured it had been hurting, and wished she could help.

_ Is he always this distant?  _ Gwen wondered idly. She sighed and turned to the fire, and like a strike of lightning, another thought came to her.  _ What if we find his parents? _

Anxiety reared it’s ugly head, a grey and ever-changing mass in her chest. It positioned it’s claws in her lungs, and with a final promise of grief to come, it bit down.

All she could do was hold her breath and wait for it to pass.

 

It was an eternity until David came back down, his arms full with everything he could find in the wardrobe. He put everything down on the floor, trying to sort through the first few items but looking lost at who should get what. Gwen moved over to help.

“Max has his hood for now, and I’ve got more hair than you, so you take the toque.” She said, picking up the hat and handing it to David. He silently took it, not able to argue despite the fact he wanted her to have it. “Your coat is pretty light, so you should take the extra one, too. And…” She trailed off, looking at the pair of the socks and trying to figure out what to do with them.

David’s face lit up as he got an idea, grabbing the socks and turning to Max, offering them. “Wear ‘em like gloves!” He said, finding joy in his little idea. Gwen smiled at his sudden burst of pride.

“I’ll take the-”

“Nope, your foot could still be bad. You shouldn’t put more weight on it than you have to.” David said quickly, knowing that Gwen was going to offer to take the backpack. “Plus, we should pick up some wood on the way back, to keep the place warm. That’s too much weight to put on your foot.” David spoke with a small smile, determined to help.

Gwen sighed. “Thanks.” She stood up, looking out the frosted windows for a moment before pushing the furnace door closed. “You all ready?”

Max pulled the socks onto his hands, internally laughing at the memories of stupid puppet plays from his younger days that were brought up from it. “Yep.” He said nonchalantly. David said the same, standing up with a smile as white as the glittering snow outside.

Gwen nodded and walked toward the front door, letting David and Max out before her. The acrid smell of smoke still filled the air, but wasn’t nearly as heavy as before. Looking toward the lake showed a slowly moving cloud of grey smoke, beginning to turn to a lighter shade. The group made their way down the wooden stairs, listening to the creaking sounds wordlessly. 

The walk toward the lake was quiet, only disturbed by the occasional cough from the air quality. Clouds began to roll in, dark and looming high above them, a foreboding promise of more cold.  _ That station better be sturdy, _ Max thought, noticing the clouds.

The snow on the top layer of the lake had cleared away, revealing a dark grey reflection of reality, mirrored and bent in the strangest ways. At that moment, everyone in that group wished they could see the icy blues, because despite their situation, beauty is something everyone longs to see.

“Pull your shirt over your nose and mouth,” David said, pulling his bandana up. “The smoke is pretty bad.” 

Everyone followed, Max pulling his hoodie up and Gwen covering her face with her jacket. It was warmer, too, a fresh feeling to everyone’s frosted over lungs.

Gwen took the lead naturally, remembering the path she had taken when she was trying to escape the fire. David’s memory was still shaky from that day, and the whole lake felt foreign to Max. In fact, he felt like he had come from a whole other direction.

The scene felt less unfamiliar when they got to the wreckage.

The metal of the plane had been scattered as it ripped over the mountains, but the hull of it had landed here. It was torn apart, singed pieces of steel scattered over the landscape. Hell, even the snow seemed burned in some places, the silver snow reflecting the scarred sheets of metal.

Nothing could have survived this.  _ No one _ could have survived this.

Max knew it was pointless to be here, and watched the dark clouds roll closer to the lake. “There’s nothing here.” He stated unemotionally. “We should just go back, find some wood for a fire and relax at the station.”

“No,” David breathed, his voice a whisper on the wind that began to shuffle the untouched snow. Max looked at him, and for the first time, realized that not everyone reacted to this the same way he had. “There has to be  _ something _ .”

It was not real for David. He could not believe there was nothing left of the flight. He could not believe that a plane with at least a hundred and fifty people on it could be so empty now. He just couldn’t imagine that something so lively at one time could have reached this end.

It was different for Max because the longer he looked at the scene, the more he remembered. Walking through the blizzard and looking for shelter became more than just that, old emotions and fears being tossed up at the sight of this plane. 

“David’s right. We should at least look around a little.” Gwen said, hesitance in her voice.

Suddenly, David took off, running as fast as he could through the deep snow without a word. His boots made it easier, but his aching body protested sharply.

Gwen called out after him, but he was deaf to his own name. Instead he dropped down in front of a piece of torn apart metal, pulling it up quickly and trying to search underneath it. When he found nothing, he looked lost and confused.

Gwen made her way over to him. “What was that?” She asked, sounding almost incredulous.

“I thought I saw someone.” David’s voice was low, wistful as he wished this were all a dream.

Max just watched. This scene was so familiar, and the longer he was here, the more he understood why.

“There’s nothing here.” Max repeated, wanting to leave as soon as he could. He had seen enough; he had remembered enough. “Let’s just go.” There was cold in his voice, the frost beginning to affect more than his body. He touched the bandaids that covered his opened hand, feeling it sting again and remembering that he was still here.

“You’re right.” Gwen suddenly changed her mind, the wind beginning to kick up. She realized quickly, at the sight of the looming clouds and how this place affected Max and David, that it was not safe here. “Come on, let’s go.” She pulled David up from his spot in the snow quickly before marching over to where Max stood.

David hesitated. He didn’t want to leave if someone could be here, but somewhere in him, he knew; He and Gwen and Max had barely made it through four days here. If there was someone visible in the wreckage, all they would get out of them is whatever luggage they died with.

Thunder roared overhead, pulling David out of his head. He wanted so desperately to help, but in reality, there was no one left here to save.

He turned around and followed Gwen and Max, hoping to escape the storm.  _ This valley has seen enough death. _

 

The clouds brought nothing but wind and thunder, making the fire watch station noisy and cold. The fire had not yet died, but was beginning to when the group made it back inside.

“Shit.” Gwen sighed, listening to the whistle of wind moving through the house. “How do we keep this place warm when the weather’s like this?” Though she was mostly wondering out loud, a solution would not go unappreciated. 

Still, no one answered, still wrapped up in their own experiences of the snowy graveyard they’d returned from. The cold was beginning to leak into the station, and everyone was still in their coats when they sat down. Gwen could feel the tension, and simply turned to stoke the fire in the hopes of keeping warm through the passing storm.

Max could feel it’s rumbling inside him, trying to scratch out the image that was in his head. Memories felt so vivid, came bubbling up and burning in his throat acidicly. He closed his eyes, gripping the counter he sat on and biting on the feeling, trying to bear through the parts he couldn’t remove.

There was fire — so, so much fire, and he remembered getting pushed against the wall of the plane. He could see a glimpse of the mountains ripping past them, tearing them down from the skies. He felt the impact, hearing the screaming stop and feeling glass tear into him.

The next thing he knew, he was walking away. He remembered an image like his mother, trapped under burning metal and screaming like all of her Devils were calling her name. He remembered an image like his father, a terror even more horrifying than the blizzard ahead of him.  _ “I swear to God, if you don’t turn the fuck around and help your mother you won’t-” _

His words cut off with a clang, and a scream like that of his mother’s sounded out as the man lay broken on the ground. For a moment, Max swore he saw the fires of Hell in every evil shade they came in, tearing through the sky.

And he turned around, leaving the woman to die in the flames. He braved the blizzard and thought nothing of his betrayal, watching the world return to gray. 

Maybe it was those sparks that made him turn around. Many people had reported flashes of color in life threatening situations, seeing the blood of their wounds before the shot of a gun, or the emerald grass rippling beneath them as their heart stopped. It was a strange opposite that many others experienced, the way color leaked away at the loss of their partner.

Maybe it was a warning. That flash of red, the light of the fire so bright that it hurt his eyes — it had to explain why he would just turn away.

_ Or maybe I’m just that bad. _

He opened his eyes, focusing on the fire in the oven. The wind encouraged the flames to peek out of their cast-iron cage, and Max imagined that he could see exactly how enraged they were, biting on the cold air around them and fighting with the cold.

Gwen did as much as she could to keep the fire going strong, but the wind pulled at it harder as the storm went on. David eventually took over the task wordlessly, still wrapped up in his thoughts. Gwen did nothing but let him stoke the fire.

“I’ll make food. Maybe we should get to bed early.” She wanted to say that they would have a busy day tomorrow, searching for food and supplies and  _ a Goddamned rescue, _ but she couldn’t. She didn’t know where to go, or what to look for. 

“I’m not hungry.” Max said apathetically, hopping down from the counter he sat on. “I’m going to bed.”

“Max, you need food.” David insisted, but the kid refused to acknowledge him, simply walking past him and up the stairs. “Max!”

The second floor felt quieter, and he hoped that the colder air would scratch out the image in his head. If it didn’t, sleep might. He quickly took off his shoes before crawling into bed, keeping his hoodie on.

It still smelled like home. Like his parents.

_ And I don’t even care that they’re gone. _

It wasn’t unoften that he would try and convince himself that untrue things were real, but this fact was a cruel reality that nestled it’s way into his chest as he closed his eyes.

The image lit once again, a colorful picture of Hell burned into his head. The colors stained his dreams when they sparked up, leaving his sleep restless throughout the night.


	6. If I See You In The Darkness, I Will Be your Comfort — Day Five

Tensions had still been high when David and Gwen went to sleep, eating only because they knew it would give them energy and not saying a word to each other. Gwen wanted the silence, thinking it would clear her head, as if the gales that battered their station could do anything to help her. She went to bed only feeling foggier and with more doubt than before.

David wanted to make things better. Max didn’t seem like a very open person from the start, but he seemed especially off ever since visiting the valley.

He woke up and felt the darkness in the air before he could even open his eyes, a bitter and sad feeling that resonated in his chest, echoing through the mountain range that surrounded them.

The station was dim, the covered skies revealing little sunlight to leak into their makeshift home. David could feel the emptiness in the bed and glanced around the room to find Gwen or Max.

While Max was missing, Gwen sat on the floor with the top of her head mere inches from the wall. Her hands were clasped near her mouth, lips touching her fingertips as she whispered with her eyes closed. Her breath formed a cloud in the chilly air, weaving through the air for a moment before dissipating.

She finished her thought with a final breath, and opened her eyes to look at the floor for a moment. She thought, her eyebrows furrowing as she considered something, then sat up straight and looked at David on the bed.

He didn’t realized he’d been staring until Gwen made eye contact with him, startling as she saw the tall man was awake.

“Sorry!” David gasped. “I didn’t mean to stare. I just… I didn’t know you were religious.”

But Gwen shook her head slightly and looked to the floor again, almost ashamed. “I’m not. My parents were, when I was a kid, but I’ve never really been.” She explained, and David nodded in understanding; his mother used to take him and his sisters to church on Sundays, but they stopped when he was young.

“Where’s Max?”

“Just downstairs. We’re looking a bit low on wood so we haven’t started the fire yet, I wanted to wait until you were awake to go out.” Gwen moved to stand up, trying to keep her weight off her foot and cursing.

“I’ll go out.” David volunteered quickly. “You shouldn’t be walking on that with your foot the way it is, and someone should stay to watch Max.”

Gwen shook her head. “I need to help. And you know that Max could take care of himself — he’s a really mature kid.” 

David nodded in agreement, staying quiet for a moment. “We should get the fire going.”

Gwen agreed, but neither moved. She just stared at the ground, thinking.

“Are you hungry at all?”

Gwen nodded and began to stand straight, keeping her weight off her foot. “Yeah. Then we’ll head out and find some firewood.”

“ _ I’ll _ head out. You need to rest your foot and let it heal.”

“So you’re putting me on house arrest until it’s better?”

“Yep.”

Gwen smiled, and moved towards the stairs, David getting out of bed and following close behind.

The floor underneath their feet creaked, the only sound in the near empty station. Nothing in the house moved, silent and still. No fire in the stove, no scratching of pencil again paper or the sound of pages turning.

He had left no trace he had even been there.

“Max?” Gwen yelled, looking around. David pushed himself past Gwen, looking into every corner and out the windows.

The backpack was missing, along with the toque and extra coat. He’d even taken the hatchet.  The only thing he left to remind them of him was his absence , and the single line of footprints in the snow leading to the lake.

David opened the door, trying to find any trace of the kid within his eyesight.

“Max!”

His voice just echoed along the empty valley, no response anywhere within reach.

 

Max couldn’t focus on anything. The world blurred at the edges, a mesh of red and orange memories amidst the grey world. His head thought things separate from what he was trying to, murmuring through memories,  _ at least we’ve seen some color before we die like this.  _

He shook off the thought, preferring to listen to Gwen and David talking upstairs - first about finding firewood, then about him. 

_ Max could take care of himself,  _ Gwen said.  _ He’s a really mature kid.  _ He agreed fiercely from his silent spot on the stairs, and glanced at the backpack and coat on the floor. He felt a cold breeze pass by him and he shivered, glancing at the empty stove.

_ If I can take care of myself, _ he thought bitterly,  _ I can at least help you. _

The hatchet in his hands weighed him down, but he felt lighter than ever before.

He ran down the pathway to the lake before anyone could notice he was gone.

 

The sound of the snow underneath his feet was a strange sort of comfort. The trail of footsteps reminded him that he was moving forward, despite his cold nose and numb fingertips. 

His breath filled his chest, cold and frostbitten.

It left like smoke would, hot and weaving through the air before dissipating.

The lake smelled like smoke, the smell of yesterday’s fire still heavy in the air. Max looked at the remains of the hut, windblown ashes and charred wood in a pile in between two cabins, reminders of what used to stand there just a day earlier.

He kept marching on, circling the lake and letting the empty cabins turn into mere background noise. The whole world was a restless collection of noise in his mind, the idea of food stuck in his head. He swore that for a moment he could smell something reminiscent of home, sweet and swirling around his senses.

When he arrived at the only cabin that he and Gwen and David had not explored, it reminded him of a very different home. One that was much more vivid in his mind.

It didn’t seem like an ice fishing cabin — it seemed like it used to be someone’s home. A very long time ago, that is. Now, it was someone else’s, someone who did not see it as home or treat it like the living, breathing force it was. Someone had not seen what it once was or what it could have been, and torn that opportunity apart.

Another reminder of home.

The door hung on a single hinge, and squealed as Max forced it to move through the rust. It did not welcome him like a home should have. This home had died a long time ago, and now he was a scavenger, looking to pick anything off it’s corpse.

There was carpet, but it cracked like snow under Max’s feet, frosted over. The windows had been shattered, and were letting the cold and snow in all too easily. He had walked into the living room, empty excepting the lonely coffee table.

No drawers, which meant no supplies that he couldn’t see.

He quickly moved onto the kitchen, and he could have sworn it was left for someone to find. In the cabinet under the sink, there was can after can of food, preserved pineapple and peaches and even a can of cranberry sauce. He almost yelled with excitement at finding it, pulling the backpack off his shoulders and filling it.

Half of the pack was filled when he’d finished, but there were other pockets and still more house to explore.

He rummaged around the rest of kitchen and found nothing extremely important, excepting a cloth, a small saucepan that he knew would make warming soup much easier, and a can opener — no more cans opened with a hatchet and a steady hand. 

There were stairs that Max began to head for on instinct, but a thought interrupted him.  _ What about David and Gwen? _ He had strayed fairly far from the station, and began to worry about if they had noticed his disappearance.

_ They’re adults. _ He reasoned with himself, making his way up the carpeted stairs.  _ They probably don’t even care. _

The hallway felt ominous, leaving only three rooms to be explored and all doors on the very end of the hall. Max took a deep breath in, making his way down the hall. 

Every step he took creaked, sending a shiver up his spine. He felt like he was sneaking through the house, as if there was someone in it. He knew there wasn’t — not a single breath of life had passed through him when he opened the doors, not to mention the deathly cold that remained.

He pushed the door on the left side of the hallway open first, simply revealing an empty room. Not even a leftover sock was in the room, and the windows here had been shattered, too. 

The door on the very end of the hall revealed a bathroom, and Max lit up. His first thought was to check for running water, turning the faucet on for the sink.

_ Jack. Shit. _ Max thought and huffed. The sink simply squeaked and fought through rust under his hands, and he sighed. At least the cabinet below had something; a half empty bottle of hydrogen peroxide and toilet paper, along with a lighter, strangely. A few spare bandaids were on the bottom of the cabinet, and Max picked them up and shoved them into the backpack with the rest of the supplies.

As he stood up, his stomach growled, and he was tempted to open one of the cans in the backpack. He shook off the thought, knowing that David and Gwen were probably hungry too and that, despite the good amount of food they now had, they needed to share supplies.

He pushed open the door to the last room, and felt a breeze coming from the broken window. There was a large bed and a bureau, reminding him of the firewatch station. Searching through the bureau didn’t offer much, just a spare t-shirt and a pair of jeans that were probably somewhere around Gwen’s size. Max threw them in the backpack, leaving it on the floor as he walked to the window.

The tundra could have been beautiful at one point. The trees were so weighed down with snow that some of them bent, and the lake was still unhidden from snow. Even the midday sunlight was beautiful at one point, powering over the mountains and terrain like a whisper over the cold.

Max shivered as a breeze passed through, and his stomach growled again. He tried to shake it off, wanting to wait until he got back home, but the beast in his stomach was persistent and impatient. 

He sifted through the small amount of supplies and pulled out the can opener and a can of pineapple.

He didn’t know if it was the hunger or the guilt that made it taste so much better than normal.

 

There had only been one place for him to look after eating, and he gripped it tightly in his hands as he left the house. The nightstand only had one small drawer, but he looked through it anyways.

With a full stomach and new swiss army knife in hand next to his hatchet, he felt more prepared than ever.

Max knew he should be getting home soon, but he didn’t feel finished. He still felt as though he hadn’t looked hard enough, hadn’t  _ done _ enough.

He looked at his footprints, leading up to where he stood now. Instead, he turned to the side, deciding to walk around the lake to see if he could find anything in the remaining two ice fishing huts.

The snow was unforgiving, cold sinking in through his shoes as he marched on. The weight on his back was heavy, but he had promised himself he would power through it, get to shelter and then rest in front of the fire for the rest of the day. Sit and be warm and hope that rescue would be here soon.

Instead, he got a face full of snow as he tripped on something beneath his feet.

“God, fucking dammit, fuck this!” He cursed as he pulled himself up, shaking off the snow and shivering. “What the  _ hell- _ ”

His voice cut short.

This was not what he had expected.

They were cold, and Max didn’t recognise their face. His eyes were wide and he was curled into the fetal position, unmoving.

How long had he been here? How long had it taken him to die?

Max shuddered, but the cold in his body was completely absent. He just stared at the corpse, standing just as still as it.

_ He has a hat. _

It was dark and looked warm, with flaps to cover his ears and soft looking wool on the inside. Max took a step forward but flinched, feeling his food about to come back up.

He looked away for a moment, trying not to throw up with every bit of willpower he had.

Even if he did get back to the station, even if he did sit by the fire and rest until someone came to take him home, it would never be the same.

How could it?

 

Gwen simply started up the fire while David paced behind her. “Why would he run off?” He asked for the umpteenth time, and Gwen sighed. “He knows how dangerous it is out there! He could be all the way back to the valley by now, why wouldn’t he just wait-”

“David,” Gwen sighed.

“I would have been able to help him, he could have talked to me, Gwen! I knew something was wrong, why didn’t I just-”

“David!” Gwen yelled, trying to get him to stop talking. She knew this thought process all too well, knew it would lead David to spiraling soon enough. 

“I should have talked to him. I should have helped him.” He was reduced to tears, sniffling and trying his best to keep it together but clearly failing.

The fire was now crackling with the last pieces of wood they had, and Gwen stood up to be next to him. “David,” she started, and looked into the man’s eyes with her hands on his shoulders. He was sniffling and teary-eyed, had a hand over his mouth and hiccuped. She had been about to say something, but seeing him like this pulled the words out of her head.

“We can’t lose him. He didn’t deserve to be here in the first place, it’s-” He hiccuped again. “It’s my fault. He’s just a kid.”

Gwen sighed, knowing that she should feel the same panic David was. Instead, she just felt somber, and pulled David into her arms. “He’s going to be okay. We all will.”

She was lying, and she knew that. She couldn’t promise him anything.

But David fell for any spark of hope life could give him, and he would believe this if it meant that Max would be okay. He sighed, hoping that the exhale would take his panic with him.

“I’ll… I’ll go out now. You need to stay here and take care of your foot, but I promise I’ll be back with Max.” He pulled away from the hug, and Gwen nodded.

“I really wish you would let me come with you. Be careful, okay?” She spoke genuinely as she took off her coat, giving it to David.

He nodded as he put on the coat. “I will. Call if you need any help, okay?”

They both knew that David might not be able to hear her, but it was a promise he needed to have made.

“I will.”

 

Max turned around and ran back to the house. He had changed his mind. He didn’t need to go to the ice fishing huts — Gwen probably grabbed everything from them already anyways. 

He just needed to get away from him.

When he made his way back to the house, he had thought enough to make up a reason to turn around.  _ Firewood. _ Gwen would probably get it started up quickly if she hadn’t already. 

He made his way upstairs quickly, heart still pounding as he went back to the bedroom. Adrenaline rushed through him, endless energy that Max didn’t know what to do with as he put down the backpack and his new swiss army knife.

The bureau loomed over him as he held the hatchet in his hand. The cut on his right hand pinched as he gripped the hatchet tighter, reopening without even a passing acknowledgment from Max.

He reeled back, and let his energy go as he destroyed it.

 

David followed the footsteps all the way to the condemned home, observing the place.  _ What was he thinking? _ He wondered. The house looked like it was falling apart by the seams, if Max hadn’t been careful while in there he could have-

David pressed a hand against the door, opening his mouth to speak before a loud clatter sounded out from inside the house.  _ Too dangerous. _ He thought, looking at the ground. There was another trail of footsteps, meaning Max had probably already left.

He marched on, calling out the kid’s name and just hoping he got a response. The trail led on, just far enough for David to worry more.

He saw the end of the trail and a dark indent in the snow, and ran towards it.

It was not Max, but he’d certainly seen it.

“Max?” David called out again, looking around. Maybe he had turned around, stepped on his last footprints to walk through the snow easier. That had to explain why the trail just ended here. “Max!” He yelled out again, still feeling panic.

There was a breeze, and he sighed, looking down at the body in front of him.

_ Why didn’t I talk to him? _

There was quick and noisy shuffling through the snow behind him, sounding hasty and panicked. “David!”

He whipped around, seeing Max sprinting towards him.

“Max! Where-”

“ _ Behind you! _ Fuckin’  _ turn around! _ ”

David looked behind him, seeing a panicked blur. Grey body, thick fur. Lips pulled back in a snarl as it’s shoulders reared back. A coyote, just a couple feet away from it’s prey.

He stared for a moment, trying to process everything that was happening.  _ Dead body. Max. Dog. _

“Hey!” He suddenly yelled, standing taller. He lifted his arms, waving them around as he shouted. “Go away! Shoo!”

The dog flinched, crouching down as David yelled. It could not understand what was happening, simply knowing that it was time to leave. It turned and, as silently as it arrived, it returned to the snowy underbrush from which it came.

David sighed, and looked back over to Max, running over to him and wrapping him in his arms. “Oh my gosh,” He sighed again. “You had me and Gwen so scared. You could have gotten yourself hurt, Max, what were you-”

Max pushed David away. “Jesus  _ Christ, _ I’m fine.” He said, rolling his eyes. He took off his backpack, opening the main pocket. “Look.”

David sifted through the pieces of wood, looking at everything Max had found. He looked between the contents of the backpack and Max, who had his hands shoved in his pockets.

“I heard you and Gwen talking. About her foot. I wanted to help.” Max felt the guilt sink in once again, the memory of eating in the house fresh in his mind. He could still taste it. “I wanted to help.” He repeated.

David zipped the backpack closed, pulling it onto his back and pulling Max in for another hug. “And you did an amazing job of it. Let’s get you warmed up, you must be freezing.”

Max nodded, pulling away from the hug. “Oh! I forgot,” he started, pulling out the swiss army knife he found. “Check  _ this _ out.” He flicked out the blade, turning it to let the blade catch the light as he began to walk towards the station. “It’s got a whole bunch of other tools on it, it could be really useful.”

David walked beside him, smiling at the kid. When Max closed it and offered the knife to him, he shook his head. “Keep it. Gwen and I have the hatchet if we need it for anything, and that’s the perfect size for you.”

Max scanned David for a moment, then looked forward and put the knife in his hoodie pocket. “Alright. Thanks.”

 

Gwen’s stomach tightened as she looked into the fire, though if it was from hunger or worry, she couldn’t tell.  _ The last thing that should be happening is splitting up, _ she thought, trying to stretch the soreness out of her legs and shoulders. Her body had been strained in the last few days, and now that she was resting she was feeling the repercussions. She was sure that she had a touch of frostbite on her toes and fingers too, and that did nothing to help.

She sighed as her stomach growled, another wave of pain that ripped through her body. Just being in pain was exhausting at this point, and she laid on the floor hoping that it would relieve some of the strain on her.

Closing her eyes, she couldn’t help but wonder what things would be like if the plane had never went down.  _ Five days, _ she thought. Would she have gotten an editor for her book by now? Or maybe she would have found  _ the person _ in Edmonton. Maybe the light of the fire wouldn’t be so pale. Maybe she wouldn’t feel as lost and confused as she did for the past nine years of her life.

Her thoughts stopped abruptly as she heard the creaking of the wooden stairs outside, and she jumped upright at the sound.

“Gwen? Are you-” David’s voice was cut short as he saw Gwen leap up from her spot in front of the furnace, tripping over her broken toe as she ran over to Max, quick to wrap him in her arms.

Max stood there, wide eyed and tense as Gwen squeezed him. He’d expected yelling. He’d expected to be told things he knew already, told that he could have frozen to death or gotten lost and thank God that David had found him soon enough despite the fact that he had been just fine. Instead, he was holding his breath, waiting for Gwen to change her disposition and become the same adult he’d been seeing for so long.

But she didn’t. She sighed, the remnants of an anxious sob leaving her with her breath. “Thank God,” she said, and pulled away. “You’re okay? Everyone’s okay?” 

Max nodded, still feeling almost speechless.

“What were you thinking? Why did you run off?” Gwen didn’t accuse with her tone, just hoping to be helpful.

“I wanted to go find more supplies. Your foot’s bad, and I figured David could use the help.” He explained, not realizing he had subtly made a jab at David’s competence. He had meant that David’s concussion was still affecting him, despite his reluctance to admit it, but any interpretation was well enough for him.

Gwen smiled and laughed. “Just tell us next time.” She sighed. 

“How are you feeling?” David piped up.

“Sore, but better. Got a bit of cabin fever, too.” She said, scooting closer to the fire. The warmth made her feel just a bit better, or at least distract her from her tenseness. “I think I’m a bit antsy because I haven’t done anything to help today.”

“Don’t be.” David said quickly. “You’ve done more than enough already. Plus, you can’t get much done with the way your body has been stressed lately.”

Max quietly walked over to the desk and picked up a book,  _ Harry Potter and The Goblet Of Fire _ , and brought it over to the fire to read while the adults talked.

“It’s not like you’ve been doing much better.” Gwen replied. “Your concussion isn’t completely better yet. I’ve noticed.”

“I have too,” Max added quickly.

“What do you mean? I’m fine!” David reassured.

“You keep tripping over yourself, and you’ve been tossing and turning in your sleep. The headaches are probably part of it, too.” Gwen explained.

David felt a bit sheepish. He had always been a bit clumsy, and he did have trouble with sleep, but it had been accentuated since the crash. He kept reasoning with himself, finding ways to explain his symptoms to himself, and as he recalled it he began to realize how Max felt.

“You’re probably right.” He felt an ache in his chest, as if pride was something that could physically hurt as he admitted that he wasn’t in the best condition. “I’ll try to take better care of it.”

“Good. So, tomorrow we’ll all stay inside, okay?  _ All _ of us.” She poked Max in the shoulder teasingly, and the kid rolled his eyes.

“Fine.” He smiled a bit, keeping his gaze on his book.

“We can melt some snow and try to clean ourselves off a bit, now that my nose isn’t frozen I can smell how garbage all of us are.” She chuckled. 

David nodded. “That sounds great. I should go and look for more firewood.” He said, and Max and Gwen simply said he should stay close before saying their farewells.

Gwen moved to stand up, reaching for the pan that had been washed off with snow.

“Oh, wait.” Max said. “I forgot to show you the stuff I got out there.”

Max grabbed the notebook from the desk, adding to his list of supplies as he and Gwen took everything out of the backpack. Just as they had about finished, the kid opened one last pocket in the front.

He pulled out a dark hat with flaps on the side, lined with wool on the inside. “I found this, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	7. God Knows Where I Would Be If You Hadn't Found Me — Day Six

David kept waking up throughout the night, a combination of his head injury and a new blizzard that had formed outside. The wind howled like a dog on it’s dying breath, scraping against the windows and wood of the fire watch station. Despite it’s pleading, it could not get in, leaving David alone and warm in the bed next to his new, strange family.

He used his restlessness as an opportunity to keep the station warm, carefully sneaking out of bed to keep the fire going downstairs and then sleeping in the spaces he could.

When grey morning light began to leak into the room, all traces of tiredness left, leaving him in the middle of the bed looking at Gwen.

His optimistic side somehow managed to shine now, even as the blizzard outside swirled around it. He was lucky — at least, luckier than those he had seen outside. He had Gwen to help him through all of this, help him not be such a panicked and disorganized mess through all of this. He had Max, someone he would adamantly refuse to abandon, despite old thoughts trying to return. He was still breathing, and that was something he had to be grateful for itself.

It did get hard. It had been almost a week, and they hadn’t seen a single sign of rescue. They hadn’t seen any form of a reply on their carvings on trees, and though they had kept their gaze on the sky, nothing passed overhead.

He felt the weight on the bed shift, Gwen moving to rub her face in her pillow. Her eyes fluttered open, squinting in the morning light and looking over David. He was only half there, but he thought as he looked at Gwen’s tired eyes.

_ Prettiest shade of gray I’ve seen,  _ he thought as they scanned him.

“Mornin’,” Gwen whispered sleepily.

David slightly shook his head, humming an disagreeing sound. “Not morning. Still bedtime.” He moved a bit closer, cautious as he put a hand around Gwen’s waist to tuck her underneath his chin. He searched for any sign that she was uncomfortable, only to find her sighing and relaxing her body.

“We should prob’ly get goin’.” She muttered, despite the fact her eyes were already closing again. 

David shook his head again. “We got time.”

Gwen smiled lightly, and her breath began to even out as she fell back asleep. David was surprised that he found another touch of sleep in him as well, letting the blizzard fade out of his mind.

_ It’s a lot warmer when you’re this close to someone. _

 

When he woke up again, the station was fully lit with sunlight, hurting his eyes as he opened them. Gwen was getting up slowly, sitting on the side of the bed and stretching. David slowly began to do the same, dreading getting out of the warm bed and starting another day of… This.

_ Maybe today’s the day rescue will be here,  _ he thought, yawning the last bits of sleep out of his system.

“Morning.” Gwen said, sounding apathetic. She clearly didn’t want to get out of bed either.

“Good morning.” David said with a smile. Beside him, Max began to stir, only to pull the blankets closer to him as he rolled over to sleep on his stomach. Gwen didn’t move from her position on the bed, though it seemed she seemed ready to go. “You thinkin’ about something?” David asked.

Gwen shrugged. “Just plans. We can’t go out in this weather, but we’ve got a pretty good stock of firewood. I’m thinking we just stay inside, try and clean some of the stink off us.” David nodded in response, sitting up and stretching.

“You seem like you still have something on your mind.” David said, trying to get Gwen to open up.

She was silent for a moment, thinking. She didn’t want to start the day off on a bad note, but the question had been chewing on her mind for a long time.

“Do you…” She breathed in, working up the courage to get the question out of her. She barely spoke above her own breath. “Do you think that rescue actually is coming?”

David looked at her, wide eyed and confused. “What?”

“We haven’t heard anything.  _ Seen _ anything. Hell, as far as we know, we’re the only people around for miles. What if no one’s coming, David? What if-” Her voice broke, her emotions getting the best of her for a moment. She just sighed, willing herself to keep her cool.

David silently moved to be in front of her, holding her shoulders. “Hey, look at me.” She looked sullen and forsaken, but responded. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think about it. Someone’s out there, looking for us. There’s been bad weather lately, it’s probably just hard to find anything with the way things are.” Gwen seemed comforted with his words, but her gaze still flickered to her lap. “They’ll find us soon, and then we can all go back to our lives. You can publish your book, and I can keep teaching my class after the holiday break, and Max will meet up with his family again.”

She couldn’t believe a thing he said. Would she still have the will to try and do something with her life after all of this? Would he still be able to go back home, back to work when they got out of here? Would Max have a family to go home to?

“Everything will be okay again.” David reassured, being completely truthful. “And it might not be quick, and it might take a while, and it might be a pain in the butt to get there. But we’ll get home, and we’ll all start getting better.”

Gwen breathed in deeply, closing her eyes to focus. “Okay.” She whispered, trying to convince herself. “Okay.”

“Now, let’s start getting ready for a warm day of cleaning ourselves off! I bet we’ll all feel a lot better once we’re cleaned up, don’t you think?” David stood up and beamed, light on his feet and ready to face the day.

With a sigh and slight smile, Gwen pushed herself off the bed. “Definitely.”

 

Getting snow to boil was a bit of an ordeal. David bundled up from head to toe, using his bandana to cover his face so that no bit of skin could be exposed to the cold. He remembered from snow day calls when he was a kid that in especially cold temperatures, exposed skin could get frostbite in less than five minutes, but no matter how well he tried to protect himself, he felt the chill anyways.

He didn’t have to be out there long, just long enough to run down the stairs and fill the pot with snow and then quickly run back up.

It was still long enough to make Gwen burst out laughing upon his reentry. 

“What?” David asked, his teeth clattering as he smiled. He took off his hat, and on looking at it realized it had been windblown and frozen. The rest of his clothes looked similar to say the least.

“You look ridiculous,” Gwen managed to wheeze out in between laughs.

David joined her, taking off his coats and passing the pot filled with snow to Gwen. She snorted for a moment as she laughed and covered her mouth instinctively, trying to stifle the sound. David noticed her self-consciousness, and quickly responded.

“You’ve got a really cute laugh.” He said genuinely, not wanting to directly call out Gwen’s anxiety.

She looked surprised for a moment, eyes wide as she looked away. “You don’t have to…” She trailed off, trying to reason with herself. Back home, her therapist had told her to stop rejecting compliments.

Strange that she’d be practicing CBT here and now.

“Don’t have to what?” David asked.

“Nevermind. Can you grab the cloth Max found yesterday?”

 

Max woke up feeling groggy, stumbling down the stairs grumpily well into the day. “No God-damned coffee out in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere, God shit fuck damn,” He grumbled, practically listing every swear he knew of.

“Language!” David scolded.

“Good morning to you too,” Gwen said, smiling.

“What time is it?” Max glowered, moving to sit by the furnace.

“Probably a bit past noon, I’d assume.” David answered, completely forgetting about Max’s cursing. “You can go back to sleep if you want, you know.”

Max shook his head. “Nah, I’m up. What’s the plan for today again?”

“Clean up. We’re all in shitty shape, and since you found that washcloth yesterday, I figure we should try and treat all of this. It’s not like we can go out with this weather, anyways.” Gwen explained. She was currently busy with David’s head wound, the tissues finally having been removed and revealing the painful looking cut on his head.

_ That’s gonna scar, _ Max thought. Gwen pressed the washcloth on the wound, dripping with warm water. David hissed and winced, biting on his fist and trying not to squeal.

“Once I’m done with this, you should let me see your hand. I don’t know when you took off those bandages, but you left a bloody smudge on the hatchet. Looked like something out of a horror movie.” Gwen said, trying to examine David’s cut. It had completely scabbed up, but the excess blood hadn’t been wiped away and was not staining his skin a dark and saturated black.

Max hadn’t even noticed the cut reopening, and when Gwen mentioned it, he noticed he’d been digging his nails into it. Little crescent-shaped cuts had formed on the heel of his hand, stinging almost as much as the reopened cut on his hand. “Shit.” He said. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It happens.” Gwen grabbed a handful of bandaids, putting a few tightly on top of David’s wound before grabbing the bandage and wrapping it around his head. David was more than relieved when it was finally over, sighing and catching his breath. “See? All better, tough guy.” Gwen remarked playfully, to which David groaned with relief that it was all over.

Gwen walked over to Max, motioning for him to show his hand. He rolled his eyes as he offered it. “I’m  _ fine, _ ” He insisted.

“Well  _ I _ think that you’ve been nervously digging into it.” Gwen remarked, turning to grab the hydrogen peroxide and squeeze the cooling water out of the cloth and back into the pot.

“I am  _ not _ nervous.” Max scowled, trying to prove his fearlessness.

“Different kind of nervous, kid.” Gwen put a bit of hydrogen peroxide it the cloth and walked back over to Max, who put out his injured hand once again. “You know you don’t have to prove anything to me, right?” Max huffed in response, sitting down and leaning on his uninjured hand as Gwen cleaned his cuts. 

Meanwhile, David had found himself preoccupied with looking at his reflection in the window. His cheeks and jaw had begun to grow a short and fuzzy beard, something he hadn’t seen since his college days. He touched it carefully as he examined his face, simply enjoying the way the wispy hairs felt to his fingertips.

_ When I get home, _ he thought to himself,  _ I’m gonna shave this to look like Wolverine. _ David smiled at the thought, quietly laughing to himself.

If anything, the joke was to distract him from the worrying parts of his appearance. He was noticeably paler, even in the dim light of the window reflection. His normally round cheeks had been flattened just a bit, a small detail but something that he still didn’t like. Even his expression was off, something that seemed almost a bit haunted now.

_ Kinda like Wolverine, _ David reassured himself, trying to find solace in the little things.

“Fuck!” Max yelled, interrupting David’s thoughts and making him look over quickly. Max had a hand over his cheek, the cut that still laid there bubbling at a corner.

“Dude, you gotta let me clean this, it could get infected-” Gwen replied quickly.

“It stings!” Max shot back.

“It stings because it’s killing the bacteria,” Gwen explained, but Max didn’t seem any more receptive to the idea of getting the wound cleaned. Gwen sighed, trying to think.

“Try talking about something while she cleans it!” David suggested cheerfully. 

Max paused, considering the idea. “Like what?”

“I dunno, something that makes you happy! Do you like video games?” David sat down next to Max, resting his cheek on his hand and smiling.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Max replied, already sounding a bit calmer. “This one kid I knew had a 3DS he didn’t use anymore when I was younger, so he gave it to me. My parents, uh, got me Pokemon Black and SoulSilver on it.”

“What does your team look like?” David asked.

“I’m gonna start cleaning this now,” Gwen said quietly.

“I try to make teams out of the shittiest pokemon I can find. For SoulSilver I’m trying to beat the game with a Furret, a Beedrill, Victreebel —  _ ow, fuck  _ — Crobat, Noctowl, and a Flareon.” Max winced as he spoke, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate on his memories of his game.

David honestly knew nothing about Pokemon, but he tried regardless. “Is the game super hard with that team?”

“Yeah, the first gym is flying type, and my only pokemon other than Kakuna was a Sentret, so if that one got knocked out I was fucked. And I fuckin’  _ hate _ grinding for levels, shit, so I was way behind on levels at first.”

“All done.” Gwen said, offering a smile to the grumpy looking kid in front of her.

“Thank  _ fuck _ .” Max hissed, holding a hand to the cut lightly. “Can we make food now? I’m starving.”

“There’s just one more thing,” Gwen started, standing up to wash the cloth off in warm water and soak it for a minute. “You definitely have some frostbite on your fingertips, and I think I saw a bit right on your nose. All you gotta do is hold this against it for a bit, and it’s just water so it won’t sting.”

Max nodded, looking at his fingertips. He didn’t put anything on his hands yesterday, and now the skin there had gone pale and begun to bubble up.

Gwen knelt down to Max’s level, inspecting this face for a moment. The skin on the tip of his nose and cheekbones matched his fingers, though she was sure that it wasn’t from yesterday. She remembered the same paleness there first seeing him, cold and half-dead in the ice fishing cabin.

She carefully pressed the warm cloth against the blistered skin while David and Max continued to chat about Pokemon, which eventually turned to other things.

_ He shouldn’t be here right now. _ Gwen thought, a frustrated sigh leaving her.  _ He should be home. He should be warm and glad that the holiday break is coming up and wondering what he’s gonna get for Christmas. _ While talking with David, Max mentioned how old he was, and only stung more to hear the answer.

_ Ten year olds shouldn’t be wondering if today’s the day they die out here. _

“Gwen? Are you okay?” David asked, noticing a small shaky breath come out of her.

“Yeah. I’m just a bit frustrated, that’s all.” She said quickly. Max looked up at her, and at seeing the look in her eyes quickly looked away.

“It’s fine.” Max said, sounding almost a bit ashamed himself. Gwen handed Max the cloth so he could hold it against his fingers, and put a hand on the kid’s shoulders as she settled into a spot on the floor. “I’m fine.”

 

After a few calm moments, David offered to make food, taking out an unlabelled can and the pan to make what seemed to be something like chili. The blizzard outside still howled, but for the first time in six miserable days, it bothered no one in the fire watch station.

Gwen went upstairs early to organize supplies a bit, but by the time David  went up to check on her, she had laid down in bed and was completely asleep.

David looked over her for a moment, recalling their conversation from this morning. He did have his doubts that rescue was coming, but he wouldn’t give up now. They had made it almost an entire week, enough to keep him hopeful that they could at the very least wait.

_ We’re okay, _ he thought and smiled, rubbing a hand on Gwen’s back and pulling the blankets over her.

 

_ We’ll be okay. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's been on a writing kick!
> 
> I am so excited to get these next few chapters, you guys have no idea. I have some great things in store for chapters nine, ten, and eleven, and since I just finished writing chapter eight, I'm sure it'll all be posted in no time!
> 
> Thank you all for being patient after my brief disappearance a month or so ago. As usual, life gets the best of me sometimes, but now I'm back in my element and should be back in the habit of doing what I love!
> 
> And a VERY special thank you to everyone who's left comments! You mean the world to me!


	8. Some Things Aren't Meant To Be — Day Seven

_ He couldn’t quite describe what it felt like. _

_ It was a sinking feeling in chest, and every breath he took felt heavy and weighed him down. His legs felt the same, dragging on the ground despite the fact that he knew he should be running. _

_ He heard someone call his name, a sour sound in his head. There had to be a gun involved somewhere, because he could feel the barrel’s gaze focused on him. _

_ It was so, so red. The blood dripping down his face. The light of the fire that tore through the skies, beastly and demanding freedom once again. He could almost taste the smoke that filled his parents lungs, taste the blood that continued to drip down his face. _

_ Another call of his name, and then it was all over. _

 

Max jolted upright in bed, a cold sweat running over him. He couldn’t catch his breath, the cold scratching down his throat in the dark.

Slowly, he gained his bearings, reassuring himself that he was safe.

_ There’s no fire. _

_ There’s no blood. _

_ There’s no red. _

He looked around him, seeing David and Gwen both fast asleep. Though his heart still pounded in his chest, and he dreaded the thought of the nightmares coming back, he laid back down, a despairing thought resting on his tongue.

_ I want to go home. _

 

By the time he woke up again, a strange smell filled the station, something reminiscent of bread but without the same sweetness. Max rubbed his eyes, groaning at the fact that he was waking up now. Gwen still laid in bed, an arm hanging off the side, knuckles almost brushing the floor.

“You smell that?” He asked groggily.

Gwen hummed, beginning to wake up and sniffing the air. “Uh… Yeah, actually.” She confirmed, sitting up and rubbing her face. “David? What’re you doin’?”

“Just a sec!” David said, sounding a bit panicked.

Gwen sighed, standing up and making her way downstairs, Max following out of curiosity.

David had found himself tangled in a something reminiscent of baking, covered in flour and trying to cook something that was smoking despite only being half-baked.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Max asked.

“Oh! Good morning! Well, I found a bag of flour in the back of the cabinets, so I decided that I would try and make something with it, you know? And I wanted to surprise you guys with, um, something, and…” David trailed off, trying to fix his monstrous mixture of flour and water. “I think I messed it up.”

Gwen rolled her eyes with a smile, and Max spoke. “You didn’t add enough water. It’s just burning the flour.” He explained.

“Really? I didn’t know you knew anything about baking!” David said cheerily, turning away from the pan and putting his hands on his hips.

“I don’t.” Max sneered, grabbing the pan handle and walking to the door. “Any idiot with half a brain can smell when something’s burning. If it burns without cooking, you add more water. It’s common sense.” He reeled back, using the pan as if it were a tennis racket and lobbing the creation as far as the wind would take it.

David hummed, thinking about it. “I guess you’re right. That’s a good way to think of it though!” 

“How about we just have some fruit or something for now?” Gwen suggested, and David laughed.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He agreed, instead deciding to stoke the fire. “I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but do you have any idea what we’re doing for plans today?”

Gwen hummed with thought for a moment. “On our way here a while back, I saw another pathway. I figure we should scout it out, see what’s there.”

Max, still standing by the door, heard and felt a jolt of panic. “Probably jack shit.” He said quickly and defensively.

“Oh, don’t be like that!” David countered quickly. “I’m sure there’ll be something that way. Plus, we should be keeping note of the best way rescue will come.”

“Yeah, like they’re gonna be walking through damn blizzards in the middle of winter. There are a  _ lot  _ easier ways to get to us.” Max argued.

“We still gotta stay watchful.” Gwen countered. Max knew he was two-to-one on this, but he knew what they would find that way, and he was going to do everything in his power to keep them from finding it.

“It’s probably just some dead end hiking trail or something.” He hissed once again. “Seriously, we’ve got food, and water, and fire wood, and the station is a good place to stay until someone gets here.”

David seemed to consider Max’s point of view for a moment, but Gwen didn’t agree. “We need to know what’s out there. There could be more people like us for all we know, and it’s not like we have everything we need here.”

“What  _ else _ do we need?”

“Ways to carry water with us, for one.”

“We don’t  _ need _ to take water with us if we aren’t going anywhere.”

“What about toothpaste? More clothes? Med supplies?”

Max opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. Instead, he huffed and glowered, looking away for a moment. “Fine. Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Gwen looked at the kid, concerned. “Why do you want to stay here so bad? It’s not gonna be the end of the world if we all leave the station for a day.”

“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”

Gwen put her hands up as if she was surrendering. “Fine, you don’t have to talk about it.” She continued on with opening the can, putting it near the furnace to warm up the pineapple inside. “We’re here, though.”

David frowned at the building tension, looking between Max and Gwen without saying anything. There was something about the feeling in the air that made his stomach turn, almost made him want to stay here too.

Something bad was brewing, and as everyone could feel it as they ate in silence, only one of them truly knowing what was about to happen.

 

The powder had gone completely untouched, sparkling in the cold sun. Nothing in the landscape moved, an isolated tundra that felt as abandoned as it was outraged. The world around Max was a like a rat trap, tense and poised to strike at any sense of movement.

The crunching of snow was the only sound to break the silence, squeaking under the weight of everyone’s boots. They had packed heavy, bringing food and firewood, the thought that they might not be returning to the station before nightfall a heavy weight on their hearts and shoulders. The wind was only stirred by their movements, brewing something sinister.

“You said you saw a wolf out here?” Gwen asked David, seeming a bit on edge herself.

“Not a wolf, a coyote. They don’t come in packs, and they’re closer to dog size, so they’re easier to deal with.” He explained.

“Wolves aren’t dog sized?”

“No, they’re a good size bigger. German shepherds stand about here,” He held a hand in the midpoint of his thigh. “But wolves can get up to here.” He moved his hand to his hip, and Gwen shuddered at the thought.

“And you’re  _ sure _ you saw a coyote and not a wolf?”

“Yeah! Coyote’s are a lot smaller, and a wolf wouldn’t have run when I yelled at it.” David explained. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. We haven’t seen any deer around here yet, which means the wolves probably moved with them.”

“How do you even know all this shit?” Max asked, watching the forest line for movement.

“I work at a summer camp, and we do a lot of stuff on the local fauna! Plus, I like watching nature documentaries and stuff, like Planet Earth.”

“Nerd.”

“Dork.”

Gwen and Max spoke at the same time, and laughed a bit while David pouted.

But their march continued on, going back to silence, the tension getting the best of them. Max was still on edge, shoulders hunched as he harboured his apathetic expression, and Gwen kept looking over her shoulder as if she knew she was being watched.

“Hey, look.” David said to Gwen, pointing in the direction of the lake. Yesterday’s blizzard had blown a layer of snow over the ice, making the mosaic of sunlit mirrors completely disappear. What was once a bent and broken image of the sky was now nothing more than snow covered ground, as if it was just a section of snowy grass with a few cabins.

As if it had never been there at all.

“Wow. Crazy to thank that it’s just…” Gwen trailed off, looking at the fresh layer of snow and taking a deep breath, anxiety filling her for a moment. “Just gone.”

It was strange for the disappearance of the lake to stick with her the way it did, following her as the found the pathway she had spotted so long ago. It was roofed with the branches of dead and dying trees, cracked and bending with the weight of the fresh snow on top of them. 

The path cut short at a strange sort of clearing, absent of trees or undergrowth in a small area with a long strip of snow covered path going through the middle of it, almost straight.  _ Not like a path, _ Gwen thought, curious.

“Train tracks.” Max said bluntly. Looking at him, he had dug through the snow with his foot, revealing a plank of wood connected to a long steel beam.

“Train…?” Gwen started, lost in thought.

“This is amazing!” David exclaimed suddenly, making Gwen jump. “Oh my gosh, this is exactly the kind of thing we were looking for!”

“It is?” Max asked.

“It is! If there are tracks here, that means that there’s a fast way for rescue to get here!” David ran over and picked up Max, hugging him close to his chest and spinning around. “This is so great! Now we know where to look, and in the meantime we have a whole lot of space to explore and look for supplies and-” He paused, taking a minute to put squirming Max down and catch his breath.

“Told you we’d find something good,” Gwen said, smiling. “How ‘bout we check this way first?” She pointed left of the path they had come in on, expecting Max to argue if only for the sake of argument.

Instead, he just frowned, sticking his hands in his coat pockets. “Let’s just get this over with.” He said under his breath, feeling a chill run down his spine as they began to walk again.

 

Max was the one turning to look over his shoulder now. Every little sound the tundra had to offer was a threat to him, a scene calling his name and pulling him in.

The sun was beginning to get lower in the sky, making the tracks seem darker than they were. “Don’t you guys think it’s getting a bit late? We haven’t seen any safe place to crash, we should probably turn around.”

“We’ve still got a good three or four hours of sunlight. Are you getting tired?” David asked genuinely.

Max shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I just figure we should go before it gets dark.” He said, beginning to lag behind a bit as he looked around.

He knew this place.

“You sure? If you want to stop, we-”

“David.” Gwen said, sounding almost stern. David looked at her, curious to find that her gaze was locked on something around the bend. “There’s something over there.” The faint smell of a gasoline fire lingered, ashes in the air as everyone made their way around the corner quickly.

The scene that lay before them was as silent as it was sorrowful.

A small whisper of wind sounded out, dropping snowflakes onto the burned bodies underneath and around a burned hunk of airplane shell. The faces of people nearest the metal were unrecognizable, just shells of what they used to be. 

Before the crash. 

Before the fire. 

Before the blizzard that put it out. 

Farther away, people had less been burned and more likely been too injured to stay awake, bleeding out or freezing to death in the storm.

If anyone had survived this, they certainly would not be here.

Gwen could almost feel they way her mind shut down at the sight of all the death around her. All of a sudden, the wind didn’t move her, and the massacre before her eyes was nothing but a big, grey, mess.

She looked over to David, who clearly hadn’t fallen into the same state she had. For a moment, his mouth hung open, stunned at what he saw. His jaw quivered for moment, then he clenched his teeth and bit onto the sob he wanted to release. His eyes were not watery, but they darted back and forth, wishing to forget everything they were taking in.

Beside him, Max looked at the ground. He had seen everything and knew exactly what it was, and more than anything just wanted to get this over with.

“Max-” David began, but the kid interrupted him.

“Don’t.” He said angrily, waiting for a moment to take in a deep breath. “I’m fine. Let’s just go.” Max looked up and began marching forwards, making nothing of scene before him.

David followed quickly, looking only at what was right ahead of him in the hopes that he wouldn’t have to memorize this more than he already had. Gwen followed as well, at a slower pace and looking for anything useful that may have survived the crash.

As the piece of the crash passed, more of the burnt bodies becoming people, it began to hurt more. David realized there really was nothing they could do, and that probably hurt more than anything else.

“Look,” Gwen said, voice relaxed and low as if she were somewhere else. She pointed to a backpack in the snow that had seemed untouched, other than covered with frost and snow. She walked over to it calmly, David following her.

She had to struggle with the zipper, the ice having dug into it and making it hard to use. When she got it open, it was almost like they had won the lottery; a winter coat that could fit over any one of theirs, another smaller jacket that could probably be put on under another one, a red scarf with the softest wool Gwen had ever felt, a clean pair of socks, and a small plastic bag with a toothbrush and toothpaste.

Gwen was quick to hand out everything, giving the scarf to David and letting him use the socks like mittens. She took the smaller jacket and put it on top of hers, where it fit tightly but still helped keep her warm. She threw the toothpaste back into the bag, putting it on as she held the large coat in her arms.

“Max?” She called, realizing that he hadn’t followed her and David to the backpack. Instead, he stood just at the edge of the large piece of metal, staring down at something in the snow. “Max, what are you-”

David ran over to the kid, looking at the spot he stared at.

It was far enough from where the initial fire had been that the two bodies were recognizable, although they were battered quite a bit. One had been trapped underneath a piece of debris, a blonde woman who laid on her stomach with her arms reaching toward someone else. He was now laying on his side, a deep dent in his temple as he stared blankly forward.

Max just stared at the couple. He didn’t move, didn’t sway for a second or even begin to cry at all. He just stood, and stared, and remembered.

“They weren’t my parents. Not my real ones.” He said, bitterly. “I bounced around foster homes for a long time. No one wanted to deal with me, or my shitty attitude. Then I ended up with them, and they didn’t give a fuck. They just wanted to have someone to parade around, make them look like good fucking people. And then they tried to drag me to Edmonton.”

David put a hand on the kid’s shoulder and turned him around, kneeling down to his level to look at him. He just stood there, looking at the ground with his shoulders slouched.

“Max?” He asked, hoping to get a reaction out of him. When he did nothing, David just pulled him closer, letting him clutch onto his jacket. He picked him up and signalled to Gwen to follow him. Looking behind him, there was a tunnel where the tracks continued, a hunk of airplane smashed into the top of it causing a landslide.

There was nothing left for them here.

“They were calling for help.” Max said, a knot in his throat as he spoke into David’s shoulder. “And I walked away.”

“Shh,” David comforted, rubbing a hand on Max’s back as he recalled everything once again. “You’re safe now. It doesn’t matter anymore, you’re safe now.” Gwen came up next to David, taking the bigger coat and throwing it on top of Max. She silently showed that she had found another backpack, much smaller and lightly packed, and David nodded.

“I don’t want to go back. They’re just gonna throw me back into the system, and no one cares. I don’t want to go back.” Max tried to explain how he felt, but the words just began to pour out, one bitter thought filling his head.

_ I want to go home. _

“It’s okay.” 

It was a blatant lie, one that hurt Max to hear, but he was too wrapped up in his own head to debate it.  _ Nothing’s okay, _ he whispered in his head.  _ We’re stuck out here in the middle of some God forsaken death trap, and even if we manage to get home nothing will get better. _

He didn’t voice a word of it, just looking over Davids shoulder as the carnage faded away.

 

About halfway home, Max said he could walk by himself, somberly clutching the coat Gwen had given him. No one spoke anything of what they’d seen, silence reigning until they returned to where they had first found the tracks.

“Max?” Gwen asked, her voice anxious.

He gave the smallest hum of acknowledgement.

“I’m sorry. I should have asked you why you didn’t want to go. I should have pressed for an answer.”

“I should have told you.” Max said simply and without pause.

Gwen sighed for a moment, wishing that she could say she felt anything more than a drop of guilt. She’d shut down completely just trying to survive this whole mess without screaming her head off.

“We’ll… We’ll make food when we get back, and just relax for the day. Won’t worry about tomorrow.” She said, her mind looping back to the rhythm she had fallen into over the last week. “And you’ll be okay?” She asked.

Max nodded silently, well aware that he couldn’t keep any promises.

The icy walls he had built up so long ago were starting to wear thin, ready to crack and pull him under at any moment.


	9. How Can Something So Well Put Together Be So Torn Apart? — Day Eight, Part One

A wind began to pick up over the night, making the landscape seem almost anxious for something to happen when Gwen woke up. As if it hadn’t already seen enough, been through enough to last a lifetime, it itched for adventure, calling out and squirming in it’s confined spot in Saskatchewan. 

Gwen had bundled up, too tired to start the fire and needing a breath of fresh air before starting the day. It was going to be a long one, a bitter reminder of the fact that after an entire week no one had even passed by.

Maybe they had gotten trapped in some strange sort of dead zone. Gwen hadn’t heard of anything Bermuda-triangle-esque in Saskatchewan, but it was a possibility. Why else would they have not seen any trace of rescue as of yet? Or maybe she was just a living sequel of  _ Lost _ and something out there was waiting for her to realize it.

She knew she shouldn’t be standing outside, out in the wind and snow and certainly not just as the sun was going up, too soon for it to begin warming the tundra by even a fraction of what it was before.

The door behind her squealed, and she looked to see David peeking out.

“Hey.” She said, sounding off.

“Hey. You okay?” He asked, stepping outside to stand next to Gwen.

She leaned against the fence, arms crossed as she looked over the trail that led to the lake. “Yeah. Just wanted some fresh air. You?”

“Yeah. Just a bit worried.”

Gwen nodded, still stuck in her own head.

“What are the plans for today?” David asked, still quiet.

“We should walk the other way on the tracks. The tunnel on the left was blocked, but maybe we’ll find something to the right. We’ll wanna pack heavy again, get firewood on the way too.”

David, nodded, words on his tongue that he didn’t want to let out just yet. “And you’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” Gwen said simply, and David turned to go back inside. “Thank you.” She whispered, genuine and not knowing if David had heard her at all.

If he had, he gave no hint of it, shutting the door behind him as he went back inside.

 

The silence was overwhelming.

Something felt different about the air, thick and something reminiscent of needles in David’s throat. David wanted to say so many things, polarized as the butterflies in his stomach turned into beasts. How had Gwen stayed so calm through all of this? Should he be talking to Max about yesterday? 

What the hell was happening?

Neither Max nor Gwen seemed torn up about it at all, and the idea that he just might be overreacting just added fuel to the fire inside of him.

Still, he didn’t say a word, letting the wind howl where he couldn’t. It whistled through the branches, knocking snow off of branches and sending it falling to the earth. 

The train tracks went on for a long time, unending and unchanging, nothing to be explored as far as the eye could see. It was just snow hiding train tracks, dead trees and crumbling underbrush. The few evergreens there were bent under the weight of all the tried to carry, holding their whole world on the shoulders and beginning to crack.

Max didn’t know what to think. He still felt like something was crawling just under his skin, something like bugs or a snake as it moved to wrap itself around his neck. Every rustle of the leaves put him on edge, eyes darting to the source of every sound that wasn’t the whistle of wind or squeak of snow under his shoes. The image of his foster parents heads were still burned into the back of his eyelids, and he felt like tearing from the seams every time he was reminded that he didn’t care at all.

_ I won’t even miss them. _

_ Gwen and David are better anyways. _

_ Why am I such a bad fucking person? _

_ I deserve this. _

Survivor’s guilt comes in many forms: as scavenging beasts comprised of flesh and bone that will stop at nothing to find something to eat; as safety blankets in dark rooms with white walls that you stare at until you can see through the drywall; as long and bloody baths or as tightly shut closet doors; as manic obsession, twitching and writhing and sobbing until you finally fall asleep. Survivor’s guilt is a monster in a man’s skin, whispering that you deserve this, that you should feel awful for ever thinking that you were special enough to make it through this. It is an addiction, to think  _ how dare you justify your beating heart? _

Max cut off his line of thought, replacing it with the image of his sneakers sinking into the snow, one after the other.

Grounding yourself can be as simple as reminding yourself that you are still standing and, at least in one way, moving forward.

“The train.” David sighed, and Max looked up quickly.

Two abandoned train cars were pushed off the track and into the underbrush, one on either side of the tracks. They stood on opposite sides of the tracks, one upright and the other knocked on it’s side.

“Not the train,” Gwen said simply. “Just train cars. The engine car is still somewhere.” She inspected the standing train car as she spoke. “How about we sit down and rest for a while?”

Max and David agreed, hoping that a chance out of their heads would help for just a moment.

The inside of the train car seemed like someone had been here, and not too long ago. There was a sleeping bag laid out haphazardly near a corner where no wind would come through, and near it, a metal barrel filled with ashes with a few pieces of coal left in there. A small bag of coals laid next to it, accompanying a plastic container.

Max laid down on the floor of the train car, stretching on his back before planting his feet on the floor. David sat with his legs hanging off the edge of the doorway as Gwen looked around.

She clicked open the container, finding a plastic bag filled with something that looked like grey sugar, seeming familiar from a far away and distant memory. “What is this?” She asked, holding up the bag.

Max looked over, and at seeing what she was holding, jumped out of his lying down position. “Jesus Christ! Put that down!” 

Gwen quickly put the bag back into the box. “What? What is it?”

“That’s  _ meth, _ Gwen!” Max yelled, fiercely defensive all of a sudden. David went wide-eyed hearing it, and Gwen put the box back down where she had found it. “Who the hell’s out here with drugs in the middle of winter?” Max asked rhetorically.

“We’ll just leave everything as it is. Just… Lay down and relax, then keep moving.” Gwen planned.

“Fuck that,” Max remarked. “I’m gonna find something else to do. Away from the train car.”

David and Gwen couldn’t blame him. “Just stay nearby.” David said, letting Max jump out of the train car and walk away from the car.

Gwen moved to sit down next to David, keeping the heels of her boots on the edge of the doorframe so she could rest her arms on her knees. With a sih, David put his head in a hand, rubbing his forehead.

“I wish I knew how you do that.” He said quietly, and Gwen looked at him and turned her head.

“Do what?”

“That.” He gestured to Gwen vaguely. “You don’t freak out over any of this. You’re just so calm about this whole situation. I want to start screaming every second this keeps going, but I’m just scared I won’t stop if I do. You keep your cool no matter what happens, even though this whole situation is absolutely crazy, even though I’ve been a useless emotional mess through all of this, and I just wish that I could…” David trailed off, looking at the knocked over train car on the other side of the tracks.

“I’m not calm.” Gwen said, though her face said otherwise. David looked at her, a small frown on his face. “I just shut down. When we saw what we saw yesterday, when Max disappeared, I just… Turn off. It’s all still there, but there’s no power. And if I stop moving, if I start to realize this isn’t all some sick and twisted dream, I think I…” She sighed, her gaze flickering down to the snow at her feet. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

David looked at her for a moment, looked at the way she held herself so loosely over the edge. She was so sure that she wouldn’t fall, but didn’t quite care if she did. “Hey-” He reached a hand to touch her shoulder, but they tensed up from her lax position as she flinched.

“Don’t. Look, I know that I should care, that I should at least act like I give a shit, but I don’t. Blame me for this, be pissed if that’s what’ll help, but this is the best I can manage right now.” She explained, and David tried to offer comfort once more. “Don’t, because I just can’t right now. Okay?”

“Okay.” David muttered, heart aching.

“When we make it home, I’m gonna drink myself blind, and you’re going to hold my hair back while I puke, and we’ll be in a room set to 80 degrees and then we’ll talk about this. Until then, this is how I have to manage this.”

“Okay.” David repeated, surrendering.

It was only quiet for a moment, but it was certainly one of the longest moments in David’s life. The conversation had left a bad taste in his mouth and a sinking feeling in his gut.

“And you’re far from useless.” Gwen offered, voice barely above a whisper.

Before David could think anything much of her words, something thudded in the snow near the area Max had headed. The adults looked over, seeing Max wiping snow off the front of his coat before bending down and making a snowball. He added more and more snow onto it until he had to hold it with both of his hands, then walked around a small bend in the tracks.

David and Gwen silently moved from their spots to follow him, and were almost shocked at what they saw.

Max had made a snowman taller than he was, the first snowball being up to his chest already. He looked at the top of the second snowball, trying to find a way to get the snowman’s head on top of his torso.

David silently offered to take the snowball, using a sock-covered hand to make a spot to cradle it in the other snowball.  Max smiled and laughed a small bit, proud of his work.

“Hey,” Gwen said. “Use this.” She handed the kid two long sticks, and he was quick to stick them in the sides of the middle snowball.

The group was mostly conversationless as they created the snowman, Max moving the snow from the top of the train tracks to find the gravel underneath. David had created eyes by digging small holes and crumpling up dead leaves to put in them.

When everyone had finished, they stood back and admired their work.

“What should we name them?” David asked.

“Uh…” Max thought for a moment, squinting and thinking. “Czar Snot Rocket, ruler of Butt Fuck Nowhere in Canada.”

David and Gwen laughed. “I like it!” David said cheerily.

“We should keep going, leave Snot Rocket to his Czar-ly duties.” Gwen said with a smile.

Everyone else voiced their agreement, content to find what the train tracks still had to offer.

 

The sun had begun it’s descent toward the horizon by the time they found anything else. There was another train car shoved into the underbrush, large logs spilt into the snow. It was the perfect place to find firewood when you dug under the snow covered logs, and the group spent a good hour just collecting firewood.

“It’s starting to get dark.” Gwen noted when they’d finished. “We’ve gotta get heading back soon, or find a place to sleep.”

“I think I saw something worth checking out a little ways back, how about we see what that is, and if it nothing we’ll stay at the train cars?” David offered, and Gwen and Max agreed.

The spot David had seen was a thin and short opening to a field of untouched snow, with something that seemed like a small cabin on the other side. “You guys should stay back, it could be another drug stop.” Gwen explained. “Check for good kindling for the fire, okay?”

David and Max nodded, turning to look through the underbrush.

The field was short enough to be able to call across to David and Max from the small building. Now that Gwen was getting closer, it seemed more like a garage or shed than a cabin, but no other buildings were nearby. 

Inside, it was completely empty, excepting a small first-aid kit hanging off a hook. Looking inside, there was just another small plastic bag filled with grey sugar.

She looked at it for a moment, then threw the box to the ground, glad to see the plastic shatter and the bag drop to the floor.

When she walked out, David was standing near the treeline, looking for kindling. “You find anything?” He called out.

“More drugs!”

Gwen couldn’t see him too well, but seeing his hand come up over his head, she figured she was about as mad as she was. 

_ A goddamned waste of time,  _ Gwen thought, beginning her walk back across the field.

 

A loud and thunderous crack sounded out through the tundra.

 

And the whole world went dark and cold.


	10. You Look So Good In Blue — Day Eight, Part Two, And Day Nine

It was a crack like a gunshot and a tiny yelp.

 

David looked over to where Gwen had been, her footprints in the snow replaced with a black hole. He knew what had happened immediately, and Max ran up to him, asking,  _ ‘what’s going on?’ _

It wasn’t until Gwen resurfaced, teeth clattering as she shivered, that he reacted. “Gwen!” He called out, his voice cracking with panic as the ice cracked once again, sending her back into the icy depths.

_ It was a pond. _ David realized as his heart pounded.  _ Of course it was. _ He took a few steps closer to her — she couldn’t have been more than six feet away — and the ice gave a groan of warning, sending him pedaling back. Once again, Gwen popped out of the water, gripping the ice for dear life.

David dropped to his stomach, grabbing Gwen’s wrists tightly and pulling her out of the pond. When she got in reach of Max, he grabbed the neck of her coat, helping pull her out.

“Oh my God, are you okay? What do I do?” David asked, hands shaking almost as much as Gwen was.

The woman said nothing, coughing up icy water and shaking so hard she looked like an earthquake had struck her. She laid on her elbows in the snow, struggling to stand.

“Come on, okay, we have to… We have to…” David spoke out loud, letting delirious Gwen grip onto his coat. Max looked up at him expectantly, eyes wide with panic. 

Gwen’s backpack slid off her slouched shoulders, and David grabbed her face. “Come on, you gotta help me out here, I can’t…” He had begun crying, and Gwen’s eyes began to flutter shut. “ _ No! _ Please don’t, please don’t leave me, no, no,  _ no- _ ” David shook her, and for a moment it worked, but after a short second she faded and became heavy in David’s hands.

“David!” Max yelled, bringing a focus to his thoughts. “What should I do?” 

_ I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, please, please don’t make me- _ David breathed in shakily, speaking the first plan that came to mind. “Run ahead of me to the train cars and start a fire, I’ll get Gwen there. Can you do that?” He took his backpack off, struggling to keep supporting a barely-conscious Gwen as he handed it to Max.

The kid nodded as he grabbed the backpack, then bolted in the direction of the train cars.

David moved to hoist Gwen onto his back, her breathing shallowly and fading away with every step he took. “It’s okay,” He whispered. “You’re gonna be okay, I promise, just  _ please _ don’t…”

The word wouldn’t come off his tongue, too grim to even picture at this point. Instead, he just quietly kept muttering the same thoughts, trying to reassure himself that when he got to the train cars, there would still be enough of Gwen left to save.

 

It took Max until he made it to the abandoned train car to realize he didn’t know how to make a fire outside of a stove, and that only made his panic worse.

_ If I don’t do this, _ he thought,  _ Gwen will die. _

He said it to himself, not even sure if that was the case. Not sure that Gwen would even make it here breathing. He said to himself to force him into action, force himself to open David’s backpack and pull out the logs and matches. He grabbed his handful of kindling, throwing it at the bottom of the barrel, remembering something about putting the smalls things first and building up.

The first match he threw in only lit a few small sticks, and with frustration he had to find a new plan. As he began to pace, trying to think, he felt himself kick something.

The plastic box rattled when it slid across the floor, and Max opened it.

Alongside the meth, there was a lighter and fire accelerant, and Max sighed with relief. The kindling when covered in fire accelerant lit much faster, and before long, the fire was raging.

David’s footsteps approached as darkness began to settle in, trying to creep towards the train car Max had occupied. “Max?” He called.

“In here!” Max replied. He opened his mouth to ask ‘ _ is she okay?’ _ but quickly shut it, thinking wiser.

David struggled to get into the car with Gwen on his back, but managed to get in and put her down near the fire.  _ Okay, okay, think, you have to- You have to… _ He blanked, trying to think.

Max looked around, trying to think of a way he could help.  _ Not enough firewood. _ He thought. “I-I’ll be right back, I’m gonna grab Gwen’s bag at the pond. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Max!” David turned to stop him, but by the time he spoke the kid had already jumped down from the train car and run off.

He shook off the event, trying to convince himself that Max would be fine, pushing away all the thoughts of coyotes and wolves and bears. He returned to Gwen, who was still dripping with pond water.

“I’m so sorry, I wish I could-” He stuttered, taking off her soaked jacket and putting it near the fire. He continued apologizing as he took off Gwen’s outer layers, the woman being completely unconscious now. Her jeans had been completely soaked through as well, but he couldn’t get himself to take them off.

The thought that it could be her death sentence if he didn’t convinced him otherwise.

As he wrapped the sleeping bag around her, he whispered, speaking knowing that no one was around to hear. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I’m just trying- I just need to make sure you get through this, you  _ gotta _ get through this, Gwen,  _ please… _ ”

_ Please forgive me. _

_ Please don’t die. _

He took off his own outer layers as well, wet from the snow and from her, and positioned Gwen to be close to him, needing something to hold onto and knowing he’d be warm, too. It was like holding a snowbank, cold to the touch and melting away under his fingertips.

She even looked cold, her skin a shade David hadn’t seen before.

She was  _ blue. _

David held her closer, squeezing her to his chest as he felt tears begin to run down his cheeks. She was blue and purple and a myriad of colors that he didn’t want to lose, couldn’t  _ afford _ to lose, and yet he hadn’t even noticed it until now.

As the light of the fire turned from white to yellow, he pressed his lips against Gwen’s forehead, whispering once again.

“Our father in heaven, hallowed be your name…”

 

Darkness had almost entirely settled in when Max returned, breathing heavily from running and carrying Gwen’s backpack, filled with firewood.

With Gwen positioned against the wall, David was free to jump up from his spot and race to Max, embracing the kid tightly. He yelped, but did nothing to escape, letting David have this moment.

“You’re okay,” He whispered shakily.

“Yeah, I am.” Max said, sounding almost irritated. His tone quickly changed as David let him go. “Is she…?” He trailed off, and David knew what he was asking.

He didn’t answer for a moment. When he held a hand to her lips, he felt nothing of a breath coming out, and the pulse he felt was so faint he couldn’t even tell if he was imagining it.

“I think she’ll be fine.” It was a bold faced lie, and both David and Max knew it, but neither said anything about it. Instead, Max handed the backpack that was on his shoulders to David, who silently took out the firewood and fed the fire.

When it was blazing, Max and David sat down against the wall. Max leaned against David, too exhausted to try and act like he didn’t need to know someone was here.

“Thank you, by the way.” David offered, sounding tired. “You’ve been so brave. You did great, Max.”

He was too tired to say much, just offering a small “Thanks.” He closed his eyes, sighing and hoping that when he woke up, none of this would be real. This had to be some fucked up dream.

Right?

 

_ Warm, burning hot and like steel wool against her sensitive skin. Every inch of her body burned, and she couldn’t even move to escape it. _

_ She could imagine the screeching of metal as the plane went down, and the howl of wind that sounded out as it surrounded her. She could imagine the fire catching as sparks flew, and her standing there, motionless as it began to engulf her. _

_ As the fire crackled around her, she could imagine laying there, never escaping or moving, just breathing in the smoke before it all faded away. _

 

When David woke up, the grey morning light sinking into his skin, his first instinct was to check on Gwen. Carefully, as to not wake Max who was fast asleep under his arm, he shook Gwen’s shoulder. “Gwen?” He whispered.

She didn’t even stir. David put his fingers to her lips, feeling a small hush of lukewarm air and sighing.

_ I think I know what you meant now, _ he thought,  _ about shutting down. _

At least she wasn’t that icy blue anymore, cold to the touch and barely there. She had returned to a more normal tone, though her tawny skin was tinted almost yellow. Her bruises and cuts remained as dark red and purple stains on her, like wine underneath her skin.

And all David could do was consider it, not letting himself be affected by it.

He could see just how bad Max’s injuries had gotten as well, a big purple bruise on his forehead and the cut on his cheek a deep, almost black red. Nothing was vivid shade by any means, but it was so strange to notice the tones of everything around him, despite how faded they were.

Carefully, he put a hand to Max’s shoulder, talking quietly. “Hey Max?” He whispered. “Come on, we should get up.”

The kid stirred for a moment, then shivered. Sometime after David had fallen asleep, Max had taken off his second coat to lay it on top of Gwen, a silent wish for better health and a hope to be something more than just a kid in the middle of the tundra. The fire had almost completely faded, just smoldering embers at the bottom of the barrel now.

“I don’ wanna,” He said, though his tone wasn’t of a kid begging to stay home from school.

“I know, but we gotta get back to the station. It’s safer there.” David sounded so  _ off _ that it hurt Max to hear, but he still sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Once we get there, we’ll go back to sleep.”

Max silently nodded, stretching and standing up to pick up the supplies he had spilled on the floor while trying to start the fire last night.

They moved around the car silently, gathering items and tying loose ends, David covering the barrel so as not to start a fire and Max shoving the lighter and what little fire accelerant left into a backpack and ignoring the voice in his head that told him  _ this is stealing. _ He had done it once before, and didn’t feel ashamed in admitting it would get easier this time around.

Then again, he didn’t have to look at the victim’s face as he stole it this time.

When everything was packed, Max hoisted the bigger of the two backpacks onto his shoulders, carrying the second in his arms.

“You don’t have to carry all that, you know.” David offered.

“It’s fine.” Max replied, turning to leave the train car. “It’s not like I can carry her.”

David just nodded, thinking for a moment before picking up Gwen, holding her in his arms as if she were already gone.

 

The trip was long and tiring, taking up most of the day. With so much extra weight to carry, the half-day it took to get here the first time had been lengthened to somewhere around three quarters of it. 

Max stumbled occasionally, the weight of firewood in his arms and clothes on his back weighing him down so much that his feet began to drag in the snow. After every stumble from his footsteps falling short after hitting a rock or ice, he swore that the next time it happened he was going to have a breakdown, but every time, he stood back up with a straight face.

Every time, David would as if he was okay, to which he’d respond with a small nod as he stood back up. Every offer David made to carry a backpack was refused, and then the walk would continue on silently.

The station welcomed them home, remaining a cold and lonely place through it’s kindness. David’s legs were tired, and his body was about to cave in with every step that he took. But he still walked all the way to the second floor, laying Gwen down in the center of the bed.

Throughout the whole walk, she hadn’t even stirred.

Had the sleeping bag he carried her in, the rush back to the train cars last night and the holding on for her life, had it not been enough? If he had done more, offered to walk to that God forbidden shed across the pond, could this all have been prevented?

He considered the thoughts for a moment, trying to feel guilty if only to prove to himself that he could feel anything at all about all of this.

Instead, he looked at Gwen for a moment more, then stood a bit taller to head downstairs and help build a fire. Max had started it, having to start from scratch as the embers had completely faded.

“Food?” David asked.

Max shrugged, lighting the kindling without needing any of the fire accelerant. Neither he nor David were actually hungry, but knew they needed to eat regardless.

After eating, both of them were quick to bed, something heavy and gray in the air. Both of them hoping that, just maybe, they would wake up to something better.


	11. I Know You Won’t Be There When I Wake Up — Day Ten, Part One

_ It had all been a deep, deep blue. _

_ And the shattered polymer of glass, white and snow coated, was as an ocean is when it rests still upon the sea. Nothing but a single mirror to the world she was trying to know broke the illusion that she was where she belonged; nothing but a memory of the mirrors she should have broken, taking the place of the promises she did the same with. _

_ It had all been a deep, deep blue, and she was a single speck of grey falling deeper into it, turning darker with every second. And her fingers grazed the snow and sunk back into the depths. And her body froze up, asking to give in.  _

_ And she refused, moving through the static in her blood to take hold one more time, feeling the shattered glass cut into her palms and the world return to grey, feeling the powder cut into her already frostbitten skin. She felt the pins and needles around her wrists, tying her to the ground while she still stared to the sky. _

_ It had all been a deep, deep blue. _

_ And she had never even known the color of the sky. _

 

Max jolted up, another nightmare fresh in his head making him stare at the gray morning light that leaked through the window of the fire watch station. He couldn’t quite recall what had happened now that his heart was racing back to the real world, but the sting on his skin was still just as real as it had felt only moments ago.

On the side of the bed farthest from the wall, David stirred, eyes blinking open to look around the room and searching for the noise that had woken him up. When his gaze flickered over Max, wide eyed and catching his breath, he sat up, quick to speak. “Max? Are you okay?”

His voice was still off, and it made Max’s stomach twist painfully.

“Yeah. Just a shitty dream.” He shook his head, and before long his expression turned to a more apathetic one. David scanned him, trying to find the right thing to say.

There really is no right thing to say when the woman who saved your life is near-dead in between you and your adversary. 

Without a word, moving like a cat under the cover of night, Max hopped over the footboard of the bed to prepare for the day. With breath passing through his body going completely unnoticed, David turned to Gwen next to him, completely unresponsive to any movement made around him. He put two fingers to her throat, and the faint pulse under her skin almost was almost completely unrecognized for a moment.

Max had put on his shoes and layered two coats on top of him as he walked downstairs, calling out. “I’m gonna get firewood, I’ll be right outside.”

“I’ll be right out there.” David responded, then turned to look at Gwen once again.

He could still picture the blue tone her lips had been, but a more colorful shade of pink was beginning to take hold. Though some parts of her were still gray, hair and eyelashes appearing as dark shades of slate in his eyes, he could only hope that it would change.

How awful it would be to realize how much you could love the color of the sky, only to watch it bleed away as it takes away the person you love.

He knew well of anomalies with the strange system they lived in; how David’s mother’s color began to fade as her relationship with his father did as well; how his oldest sister had caught glimpses of it when looking at the sun set over Colorado mountains or west coast seas; how his father had never once seen it, but bit his tongue when asked  _ do you see it too? _

David had never been too concerned with this. He always shrugged it off, saying that these things take time, though deep down it wasn’t very much a priority for him. He figured that there had to be something more, that color wasn’t very important anyways. He thought he could work around it.

But now, thinking back on the cerulean shades that entwined themselves in Gwen’s skin while she shivered in the snow, he closed his eyes. He hated that color.

Pressing his lips to Gwen’s forehead for a moment, he whispered. “We’ll be back real soon. Stay here and rest up.”

As if a phrase as simple as that would mean anything. As if he could say anything meaningful here.

_ There really is no right thing to say, is there? _

 

The wind wove it’s way through the trees, dragging itself across untouched seas of snow as it found its way to the edges of the lake David and Max had become so familiar with. It carried an acrid scent with it, sour and something reminiscent of lightning in their heads.

A loud  _ crack _ sounded through the air, a shockwave through the mountains as it stirred the air. David and Max both jumped, Max quick to look around vigilantly. “What was that?” He asked, eyes searching for the source of the sound.

After a glance around the area, David relaxed. “Probably the trees.” He started walking towards the edge of the forest, hatchet in hand and ready to search for firewood.

But Max stood still in his tracks. “The trees are shooting guns now?”

David chuckled for a moment. “No, it’s from the cold. The sap inside can freeze when it’s really cold, and that can make the trees crack.”

Max considered it for a moment, beginning to follow David. “No, I really think that was a gunshot.” He insisted.

“Why do you think that?”

“Sounds like something I heard when I was younger. I lived in a shitty part of the Bronx for a little while, and one day there was this — I don’t know, hold-up I guess? — at the bank a block or two away. I could hear the shots from the apartment I was in.”

David frowned. “That sounds awful, I’m sorry.”

Max shook his head. “That was actually a pretty good place. The foster parents there were this lesbian couple, they were pretty poor but really wanted to help kids in the system. Worked really hard to make their dodgy little place a home.” He didn’t elaborate further, wanting to change the subject before thinking of the past turned into wondering about the future. 

David just considered what Max had said, letting the conversation die where it stood. And when the conversation died, they were left with silence, nothing more than an acrid scent carried by a somber breeze. When it died, they were left to consider what they had done to lead them here. When it died, they were left to be haunted by the ghost of what would be waiting for them back home.

Max made a task for himself by finding the driest logs he could find, dragging them through the snow to a makeshift clearing David had made. They didn’t have the time or resources to go back to the logging car they had found on the tracks, so they simply had to make do with what they could find.

Nothing was nearly perfect, just good enough for them to get by. The wood might take some time to catch with how damp it was, but they would make it work for as long as they had to.

While Max leaned against the trunk of a tree that bent with snow far over his head, he looked at the webs of footprints he had left in the snow, stretching out like a spider’s web around the clearing. The forest around their web was silent, forgiving for the moment as they simply tried to compose themselves.

Max looked at the pile of wood they had already gathered. “I’m gonna take this back to the station.” It was not a request at all, said only to inform David of where he was going.

“That would be great. Be back soon?”

“Sure.” And with that, Max gathered an armful of chopped firewood and began walking in his own footsteps in the snow, following the only trail where his tracks were not the only ones he walked in.

 

The station was warm compared to the world around it, but that didn’t stop a shiver from going up Max’s spine when he entered it. He despised how quiet it had grown it here, and took a moment to sneer into the empty space.

Hostility would do nothing to help here, and he knew that well. To him, he hoped that if he bared his teeth enough, lashed out enough, he might be able to convince himself he had never cared at all. That this — bared teeth and outstretched claws — was all he ever needed.

But when the silence did nothing to react to his grimace, his expression faded. The creaking of the wood under his feet was the only thing to reach him as he put the firewood away next to the furnace, whose embers only spoke to remind Max of what he had become. 

He looked at his hand, looking at the bandages that covered it. The cut there still throbbed from time to time, and knowing that he had reopened it the day before by trying to carry so much only made it hurt worse.

His weight on his feet shifted, and he looked to the furnace one more time before turning around. With a sigh, he let himself walk upstairs, but didn’t allow himself to recognise any thoughts or feelings he may have had as he did.

Gwen hadn’t moved an inch. Max’s heart dropped for a moment, diving into his stomach to make his breath cut short. He couldn’t make himself check for breathing, nor a pulse when he found himself standing at the edge of the bed, trying to find what he was looking for.

_ But there’s nothing left here. _ The thought was bitter in his mind, and he pushed it away.

There had to be  _ something. _ Why else would he have forced himself up here?

So he put his elbows on the edge of the bed, resting his head in his hands as he let himself crouch down, knees on the floor. 

“Hey, Gwen.” He started, looking at the folds in the sheets and not the person he was hoping to get through to. “I know you probably can’t hear me, but I know in the movies sometimes people in comas can hear people talking to them, so I figure I should try.”

Max felt stupid and awful, trying to speak to Gwen. He felt hostility trying to show it’s face again, but he was too tired to bother with it. Too tired to push away everything else.

“David and I are trying real hard to make things work. He’s getting the hang of it, I think, and I’m just trying to follow along. I think David’s trying really hard to be like you and keep his shit together, but it feels really wrong on him.”

Gwen didn’t respond.

“I… I dunno if you’re gonna get through this, or if it’s too late, but I promised myself that I would get through this. I promised myself that I would try to get out of here, so if you don’t come back, I’ll be fine. I’ll keep trying.”

Max felt heat behind his eyes and gritted his teeth, taking his head out of his hands and laying his arms down on the bed. He buried his face into the sheets, opening the dam just a little bit to let out a small sob, accompanied by a small and lonely phrase.

“I’m sorry.”

 

Anxiety tugged on David’s heartstrings for what must have been the third time in the past half hour. It was just one of the many threads holding him up, letting him stumble towards the next goal, hunger and worry and cold being what motivated him for the moment. The crows called, dark gray scavengers that watched from above.

They knew nothing of comfort.

They knew nothing of love.

The hatchet that he had risen above his head cracked down on another log, and as it split he felt another thread pulling on him. And as he recognized this he listened to the crows calling, and the wind howling, and the hunger that filled the air.

Max had been gone for a while.

David began to collect the firewood, enough to at least last until the nighttime, and hoped that on the way to put supplies in the house he would find where Max had gone. Every worst-case-scenario chewed on him as he anxiously began the walk home.

With every cackle of the crows he stumbled, wondering what they had found to make them so loud. With every fresh breath of wind his pace picked up, carried by the breeze that threatened to freeze him.

He was so worried, and hungry, and cold. 

He was so tired.

His feet fit in the footprints he had left what couldn’t have been too long ago, leading him back to the station. Max’s trail hadn’t branched off at all, and at realizing that he must still be in the station, David shuddered to think what he might find when he got back inside. The stairs creaked as he walked up them, and his body protested as he pulled it inside the station. 

It was more quiet than the world outside, and David held his breath, listening for any movement.

A muffled sob came from upstairs, and David dropped the firewood in his hands abruptly to run up as quickly as he could. Had Max checked to see if Gwen was okay? What had he found? He never should have shouldn’t have let him find this alone-

The scene was different than he expected.

Gwen was still tightly wrapped in her sleeping bag, but now she was sat up, eyes open as she stuck an arm out of her bundle of blanket. She carefully stroked Max’s hair, who had buried himself into her side, quietly sobbing with relief.

David stared as Gwen looked up at him, her violet eyes wide as they met his. Her expression was one of relief, but it could never compare to David’s shock at seeing her, awake and fully functional.

When he didn’t move, she carefully moved around Max to try and get off the bed, but by the time her legs were dangling off the side David had jumped into action. He practically slid when he dropped to his knees in front of her, quickly wrapping his arms around her waist so hard that she could feel new bruises forming.

For one painful second, David tried to hold it together, but before any meaningful time had passed he let out a pained wail. Gwen winced, her whole body already being sensitive enough, but David almost seemed like he was in a worse state than her with his head laid in her lap as he held onto her like a drowning man would a life vest.

Her whole body ached, and every touch to her skin stung as if she had been burned, but she still managed to put a hand on his back and comfort him the best she could. She quietly shushed him, her throat aching too much to say anything.

But after the initial shock of seeing Gwen up and breathing, David looked up, moving his hands to grab her face. She winced as his wild eyes inspected her, noting every small detail he could — the dark purple bruise on her jawline, the ashen tone of the tip of her nose, the rare umber freckle that dotted her blotchy skin. All of it was beautiful, and when he found her eyes again and found how alive their lilac tones were, a teary smile spread on his face.

He put a hard kiss to her forehead and cried out. “You’re okay!” He wailed as he began to cry again, burying his face into Gwen’s shoulder. She carefully muttered out a ‘stop’, not quite understanding why David was in this state, or why his reaction to it made her hurt so much more.

“What happened?” She asked, voice raw and course. Max, who was sitting where he had been left with a small smile on his face as he rubbed away tears, responded.

“You fell through the ice.”

Gwen paused, thinking back on it — she could recall the field, and then a downward motion, and then everything else was hazy. She began to understand David’s desperation.

“What?” She asked.

David looked up at her. “It-it was a pond, and then this big crack and we had to- You were so, so cold, carried you back and I thought-” He was hiccuping too much to complete a thought, mind still racing. “But you’re okay? You’re really awake now?”

Gwen simply nodded, her throat aching from the few words she had already said. “How long?”

“‘Bout two days.” Max answered.

Gwen let out a small sigh, not sure of the reason why. She looked back at David, who wiped the tears from his face with one hand and found Gwen’s with the other. He was more gentle now, careful to note the blisters on her fingertips and work around them. “Do you need anything? What can I do to help?” David offered.

“I could really use some water, thanks. And maybe a bit of help getting rid of these blisters.”

David nodded and stood up, still smiling. “I’ll get the first aid stuff, and some water. And you’re… You’re definitely gonna be fine?”

“I’m fine.” Gwen was still in pain, still a bit scared. She was still nervous to find out what they might become out here.

 

But at least she wouldn’t stop trying.


	12. Living On Borrowed Breath — Day Ten, Part Two

Gwen had to bite her fist to keep from yelling out while she and David dealt with her blisters. She was still exhausted and haunted by the occasional shiver, but the can of warm water in her hand was a small comfort to take solace in.

David was careful as he helped take care of any injuries Gwen had, from the frostbite to the bruises that seemed so obvious to him now. He warmed a wet cloth for Gwen to put on her fingers, as he didn’t quite want her to stray far from the bed. In normal situations, he would have gotten a cold press for the bruises — like the dark purple one he had seen on her ribcage that he never would have thought about — but this was not a normal situation. Warmth came first.

He muttered apologies as he put antiseptic on the remains of blisters, watching for every flinch and hiss from Gwen.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, knowing it wasn’t good but wanting to find what else he should help with.

“Better. I’m just sore. And a bit hungry.” She replied, letting herself loosen up her shoulders.

“I’ll make some food, and grab tylenol. Do you need anything else?” He knew he didn’t want to go downstairs, didn’t want to leave Gwen yet. It still didn’t feel real; the last two days had been the longest David had lived yet.

But Gwen shook her head. “I’ll make it without the painkillers, we should save them.” 

“At least take one?”

Gwen sighed. “Fine.”

David smiled triumphantly. “You stay up here and rest up, I’ll bring everything up.”

Gwen didn’t like being served, and certainly not as doted on as she was at the moment. It was foreign to her — she was the oldest out of her siblings (albeit by only an hour when it came to her sister), and got anxious when she wasn’t working on something.

David walked down the stairs, and as he did, Gwen looked into her can of water.

_ I guess it could be worse, _ she decided, then took a sip of the water, willing herself to relax, even if it was only for the moment.

 

Max sat in front of the fire, half asleep as he listened to the crackling of the fire. He could have sworn time had slowed down for a moment — for once, everything was quiet in a way that meant only good things.

No more yelling.

No more tears.

Just a chance to sit and breathe.

The sound of David walking down the stairs made Max aware of how close to sleep he was, and he opened his eyes quickly. The fire still crackled in front of him, and for once he found nothing angry in it’s movements. For a moment, it was no more of a monster than he was. For a moment, he saw himself reflected in the blaze, before he heard David speaking.

“You starting to get hungry?” He asked.

“Starving, yeah.” Max looked at the stock of food, his thoughts drifting away from a growling stomach. They were starting to run low, not to mention the shortage of firewood. No one mentioned the growing shortage of supplies, or the fact that the immediate area would be completely run dry of food if they didn’t find something renewable before long.

David had a small and content smile plastered on his face as he made food, opening one of the mystery cans to find more stew. Max slintly cringed at the smell — he knew that it was dog food. Hell, he could recognize the brand. But beggars can’t be choosers, and that stuff at least had enough calories in it to keep everyone functioning.

“We need to at least get more firewood today.” Max started. He knew that David was hesitant to leave now that Gwen was up and running, and was perfectly willing to leave and find supplies himself. “And we’re low on food.”

David thought for a moment. “I’m sure we’ll make it through the night. Now that Gwen’s awake-”

“She’s still out of commission. We need to manage supplies for at least the next day, and at this rate we’re gonna freeze. I can go out there if you want to stay with her.” Max explained, and David couldn’t argue with him.

“I’m not going to make you go out there by yourself.”

“It’s  _ fine _ . I’m just gonna go back to the place we were earlier and be right back. I probably won’t be longer than one or two hours.”

David stopped what he was doing, turning to kneel in front of Max. He looked sure and honest, eyes level with the kid’s. “I know you want to help, but you’ve done a lot.” He said. The reason he wanted Max to stay was more of a feeling than a reason he could put into words, and he was doing his best to convey it. “There’s nothing you  _ need _ to do. I’ll take care of the firewood situation — that’s  _ my  _ job. If you want to help, you can, but you certainly don’t have to.”

Max hadn’t even considered to think why he was so intent on helping. Perhaps it came out of a spiteful mistrust of the adults, the idea that they couldn’t take care of themselves on their own. Or maybe it came from a history of justifying himself and his presence, needing to earn everything that he got. He hadn’t considered that maybe he had been pushing himself, and was surprised to see David catch it before him.

The man stood up, going back to making food without another word. 

As everyone ate, Max let himself breathe, and for a moment, he smiled a bit more than he used to.

 

Leaving the station was somewhat of an ordeal, David being concerned with Gwen. She had begun to develop a deep and shaking cough, but shrugged it off as just another result of her having fallen in the lake. More than anything, she was focused on survival, and hearing Max’s concerns about a food shortage turned her back into the manager of the group.

It took lots of persuasion and reassurance to convince David that she was fine. She even assured him that she was tired and was just going to go to sleep early, and that it was impossible for her to push herself if she was asleep.

When David and Max finally made it outside, he was a completely different person than he had been just that morning. The wind had begun to pick up, making his layers of clothes ruffle in the breeze. He put his bandana over his face to protect it from the cold, and turned to look at Max.

“You want to take the lead?” He asked, knowing that Max was still itching to feel useful.

The kid nodded, beginning to march forward, past the clearing they had been at earlier. “We should check out the cabins by the lake. You said they’re for ice fishing or something, right? There might be supplies we can use to fish.”

“That’s a great idea, Max!” David said, following quickly with a smile.

It faded when he saw the lake.

The snow that had once coated the surface of the ice had been completely cleared, and now David could see the deep blue hues that reflected the sunlight on the top of the lake. He shuddered, thinking again of what Max had said —  _ ice fishing. _ It was easy to think of what could go wrong with everything that had happened.

_ We’ll just be extra careful, _ David noted, making an effort to keep his hopes high. If he seemed optimistic about what would come of this, if would rub off on everyone else, and maybe even come back to them. He liked to believe that karma was on his side, that the hope he put out would get returned to him eventually.

Karma was a bit tough to believe, though, if it meant that he deserved to get caught out here.

The ice fishing cabin that lied in the middle of the line of them was just a husk of what it used to be, black and charred and barely standing. The other two had been entirely untouched, standing across the way from each other like monuments of the wars they had stood through. 

“Which one should we go to?” Max asked.

“Gwen looked through the one to the left, so we should probably go to that one.” David said, pointing to the cabin on the right.  _ Same place we found you, _ he thought as he began to walk towards it.

The place was empty for the most part, leaving David to cut the doors off the cabinets as Max looked through the drawers. 

“I think there’s something in here.” Max said, looking through a cabinet. There were a lot of papers, pamphlets and things for tourist destinations that had all been forgotten by now. Underneath the papers was a spool of plastic thread and a fishing pole that had been shrunk down.

David lit up. “Max, that’s perfect!” He took the fishing pole and extended it, looking at the tackle and hook. “We can break through the ice with the hatchet, we’ll just have to be careful. It might be a little difficult, but… Oh, this is so great!” He put the fishing rod of the floor to grab Max and hug him tightly, laughing and smiling so hard he was sure it would hurt later.

Max rolled his eyes, and after a moment, pushed himself away from the hug.

“I say we finish getting firewood, then head straight back to the station to share the good news with Gwen.” David suggested, and Max nodded.

Soon enough, they were able to leave with a full backpack and the thought that maybe, if they tried hard enough, they just might be able to thrive.

 

The house was quiet as David and Max entered it, putting down their things and taking a moment to feed the fire. The cold wind had begun to hurt in their lungs, and now that they were in the comfort of the fire watch station, they were able to take in a comfortable breath.

After putting away the rest of the firewood, David made his way upstairs. “Gwen?” He started.

But she was peacefully tucked underneath the blankets, breathing steadily and slowly. David looked over her for a moment, assuring himself that she was going to heal. Assuring himself that before long, everything would be okay.

Silently, he turned around, deciding to let her rest.


	13. Hook, Line, And Sinker — Day Eleven

David didn’t have the words to describe what he felt at that moment. He had forced himself to shut down after what happened to Gwen, forced himself not to feel or think too much about anything just to avoid a breakdown. But now that she was back, the emotion all came flooding back, and now that it was spent for the moment he just had to lay in the pale morning light for the day to start.

Her breaths were rough in her throat, a side effect of her cough, and David wondered if her sleep had been restful. He was a pretty light sleeper, and could only hope that if she was tossing and turning he’d know.

If he could, he would lay here until rescue came. But time and fate are cruel forces, and he knew that the cold would come for them again soon.

Gwen shifted, beginning to wake up. She rubbed her face into her pillow, her aching body all coming back to her. When her eyes fluttered open, they met David’s, gray but filled with wonder and tears. As if her every breath was a whisper of hope in his head. As if the ache in their bones was nothing more than proof they had survived, and the scars they would come to bear could just be nothing more than pictures of the past.

_ Maybe someday. _

_ Not today. _

A lazy and tired smile spread on David’s face. “Mornin’.” He said, still dreaming.

Gwen hummed, too tired and too sore to formulate a real reply. She took in a deep and raspy breath, which quickly turned into a hacking cough that she hid in the blanket by her chest.

“You feeling any better?” David asked, though he knew that she wasn’t exactly in a great state. Gwen shrugged, coughing once more before replying.

“A little. Still sore.” She said with a sigh. She was beginning to go a little stir crazy, and not knowing exactly what was happening or how resources were made her anxious. Regardless, she was in no state to lend a hand with the condition she was in. 

David turned, stretching and getting out of bed. “You should take the last of the painkillers, keep resting up today.”

Gwen shook her head. “Might need ‘em later.”

“But you need them  _ now. _ ” David argued, sounding completely sure of himself. He wasn’t the stubborn sort, so the tone of his voice was enough to convince Gwen to change her stance. That, and the pain that shot through her body as she sat up.

“What’s… The plan for today?” She asked slowly, the words feeling foreign on her tongue. She didn’t like this at all, not knowing or planning what was happening. She wanted a plan for everything, and she wanted to know every step of it. Flying by night was never something Gwen had been good at.

“Oh, right, you were asleep when Max and I got back last night. We looked through the cabin we found Max in, found stuff to ice fish with. I think we should make breakfast, and then Max and I will head out and see what we can catch.”

“I’ll co-” Gwen started to speak but was quickly cut off by another bout of coughing. “I’ll come with you.” She offered, standing up. As soon as she did, the world spun around her and the edges of her vision went dark, making her stumble for a moment. David jumped to help support her.

“You will not.” David said simply, a small smile on his face. “You’re in no condition to be out there in zero degree weather.”

“But-”

“No buts. You’re gonna stay here and let your body heal, and Max and I are gonna go out and catch us some good dinner!” David beamed, hoping to shine some positivity in Gwen’s direction. “And then when rescue gets here we’ll all go home and eat until we’re sick. Once rescue gets here we’ll never have to worry about this sort of thing ever again.”

Gwen had completely given up on the hope of a rescue. They were drawing close to two weeks alone out here, with no sign of civilization anywhere nearby.  _ Rescue _ was a pipe dream she didn’t even want to consider anymore.

But it kept David going. For now, it was keeping him energized, thinking that soon someone would come and all of their efforts for survival would be proved useful.

If they wanted to get out of here, they would have to do it themselves.

 

Max wasn’t enthusiastic about the day’s plans. He had never been fishing before, let alone ice fishing, and regardless he never liked sitting still or being patient for too long.

After a meager breakfast of shared fruit, Max and David set out to the lake. The sun had already begun to reach towards the peak of the sky, and the landscape was still frigid. At least it was completely absent of wind, nothing to leave them more chilled than they already were.

Arriving at the lake, Max could feel how tense David was. He stepped on the ice, listening to the ice carefully for any groan of warning. When it didn’t creak, he ventured out further.

Max began to follow him, but David was quick to react. “Stay on the shore.” He scolded, but he quickly changed his tone. “Just for now.”

Max didn’t blame him for his reaction. Not with the way Gwen was locked in the station. Not with the way they had almost lost her. Instead, he took to walking the edges of the lake, keeping a lookout for anything of interest.

David found a place near the center of the lake, and he shifted his weight to see if the ice would react at all. When it didn’t react, he jumped a small bit, and when it still showed not give, he let himself relax.

Regardless, he decided that until he had made his way through the ice without anything cracking, he’d let Max patrol the shores.  _ Better safe than sorry, _ he thought, though ‘sorry’ is not what he would be if anything happened.

He wouldn’t ever forgive himself.

As the minutes passed, quickly turning into hours, David just used the hatchet in his hands to chip at the ice. Just chipping at it, working away until his back ached and he could reach in the hole and still feel solid ice. His worries that something would happen to him or Max were fading faster than he’d thought they would, and it just turned into frustration.

As the sun began to bleed into the frayed edges of mountains in the distance, David felt the ice give underneath the hatchet, and sighed with relief. Max had been taking periodic breaks from his patrol route, and found absolutely nothing. No animals, no footprints. Not even another corpse.

David approached him, and with exhaustion and annoyance, explained that maybe it would be best to head to the station and eat dinner.

 

Gwen had been sitting on the chair downstairs when David and Max returned. The notebook and pencil in her hand went still as she turned to look at them, and she could tell things hadn’t gone well.

David’s eyes were half lidded and his smile had completely faded, shoulders low as he made his way to the furnace. Max just looked at the ground as he got in his usual spot in front of the fire, and Gwen decided that anxiousness was not at all fitting on the kid. 

It was quiet as David pulled out the pan to make food, and after a moment, he spoke. “We only just made it through the ice.” He said bitterly. His body was sore, and the worrisome memory of Gwen falling through the ice had worn him down as he tried to make his way through it. “Just hours of chipping at it.”

He grabbed an unlabelled can, and Max watched his hand intently. When he tossed the can into the air to catch it casually, the kid flinched, hands quickly curling into fists and finding their place just in front of his face.

David saw the kid’s defensive position and was quick to drop everything he was holding on the counter and put his hands up, guilt filling his stomach. Max relaxed by the time David even had the time to cover his mouth, wide-eyed. 

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry-” He stuttered, sitting down on the floor. “I’m just not myself today, I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”

Max paused for a moment, then shook his head, looking away from David and shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s fine.” He said, voice quiet and guarded. 

_ It’s not. _ David wanted to insist that it wasn’t because  _ this is not okay, _ but nothing he could think to say would help.

Silently, he brought the can and pan to the floor with him, and continued to prepare dinner.

They were pleasantly surprised to find that the last of the unmarked cans was not dog food, but spaghetti-o’s. The mood was lighter, but still far from joyous as they ate.

When Max had finished eating, he walked to the windows, letting the adults have a hushed conversation behind him. The outer world was completely dark now, the only light being that of the stars high above their small camp.

“We can’t stay here much longer.” Gwen said with a sigh.

“I know.” David whispered. “But where do we go? What if rescue comes after we leave?”

Max tried to tune them out, but he shared their concerns. They had enough food to last maybe two days if they ate very little, should they not be able to catch anything. And rescue, should it be coming at all, might miss them if they travelled.

The snow on the ground began to light up, a mixture of pale gray lights playing on the powder of snow on the ground.

“We’ll go back down the tracks. Head a bit further down the direction we went, try and find a town or at least a path that leads south.” Gwen explained, still quiet.

Max looked at the snow, finding the glittering reflection on it and being curious for a moment. He looked up at the sky, wondering what it could be reflecting. “Uh, hey, guys?” He started, gaze not moving.

“When should we go?” David asked.

“Couple days from now, probably. Keep trying to fish, and if we can’t find anything…” 

“Guys. Look.” Max repeated. Gwen and David stood up to look out the window with him, and gawked at what they saw.

Large swaths of pale green and pink made their way like ribbon across the sky, weaving in between the stars and stretching toward the earth like a wall. David had seen it once before, but never like this. Before, it had just been another expanse of gray light, just another thing to wonder if he would ever see in color. And to Max and Gwen beside him, that’s what it was. Just something else to wonder what what it  _ really  _ looked like, or if they would ever see it as it really was.

But Gwen could have sworn she saw something else in the light. Maybe it was just a trick of the eye, all in her head, but she could have sworn it was something new. Or maybe the reflection of the light in David’s eyes had fooled her.

She thought, for just a moment, that she had seen something green.

When she had had her fill, she muttered something about going to bed, her body beginning to ache now that the last of the painkillers had worn off. They had faded a while ago, but now the pain was becoming too much to ignore.

“You gonna go to sleep soon?” Gwen asked David as she walked towards the stairs.

“Yeah. Yeah, just give me a few minutes.” He said, watching the way the light moved through the sky. Max followed Gwen upstairs, glad to be getting to sleep soon.

But David stayed by the window, the color of the sky filling his vision but something else in his head. A picture of Gwen, full color and vivid with all shades of colors, the warm shade of her skin now that she was healing, and the blue ashen tone it was for a moment. Every spot of purple that would find it’s way to healing, but for now remained as a sore reminder that they were still here.

David’s focus shifted, the window letting him look in on himself through the glass of the window. His hair was a bright orange, and the beard that had begun to fill out was a darker and more auburn shade. His eyes reflected the green tones of the northern lights outside, becoming a vivid emerald shade.

But he did not focus in on the way his cheeks had begun to sink in, malnourishment taking it’s toll. He did not pay any mind to the old bandages on his head, hiding his injury from sight. The only thing he could think of was how his color compared to Gwen, how his vivid tones might contrast her darker ones.

All he could wonder, in that moment, was if she had begun to see it too.


	14. There Has To Be A Painless Way To Take This Where It’s Going To Go — Day Twelve

Gwen was already awake and downstairs when David woke up. She had been itching do do something — anything — for almost two days now.

When David made his way downstairs, he saw Gwen in the same seat she was in when he and Max returned from fishing the night before. She had the same notebook in hand, and had honed in on writing something.

“Good morning!” David said cheerily, glad to see Gwen out of bed without needing any help.

She didn’t look up. “Mornin’.” Her eyes were wide, scanning her words as she tapped her pencil against the paper.

“What’re you writing?” David asked curiously.

“I’ve been journaling in the spaces that I can. Trying to keep track of everything that’s happening, keep my thoughts together.” She explained. “I’m guessing we’re gonna try fishing again?”

David nodded.

“Can I come with you guys today?” Gwen asked, finally looking up from her book. David opened his mouth to refuse before she continued. “Please? I can’t stay here and read  _ 50 Shades Of Gray  _ again.”

“Oh, I heard it was pretty bad.” David commented, beginning to get the fire going again.

“No, I read  _ the whole thing. _ ” She emphasised, and David chuckled.

“That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea. The only thing this book is doing for the literary world is being an example of what  _ not _ to be.”

David laughed for a moment, but his face turned a bit more serious before he responded to Gwen’s question. “I don’t know. It’s just… Are you sure you’re going to be alright out there?”

“There’s nothing out there you can handle that I can’t.” She asserted. Despite the fact that she was still very sore and it might be best for her frostbite if she stayed inside, she was going stir crazy in the station.

“But what about the lake? What if-”

“It took you hours just to get through the ice. I’m sure I’ll be fine, David.” She said, hoping that it was enough to reassure him.

He shifted. “I mean… If you’re sure. I just want you to stay safe, you know?” He couldn’t bring himself to admit that every hypothetical became a real possibility in his head when he thought about it, wondering,  _ what if it’s warmer today? What if the ice breaks anyways? What if an animal shows up?  _

_ What do I do if I lose you? _

“I know,” Gwen said. “I will be.”

 

The tension from yesterday still lingered in the frostbitten air, ignoring the small progresses that everyone had made by searching through the station.

While preparing to leave, Max had remembered seeing some sort of pamphlet or guide to ice fishing when they had first arrived at the station that he had forgotten until now. It was buried in the pile of papers that had made a home on the corner of the desk, but searching for it had proved worthwhile. The guide had tips about ice fishing that David hadn’t even thought of, and it gave him a bit of extra hope about catching something.

But when they had packed everything, hatchet in hand, all they had left was the hope that they could catch something. If not, they would have to leave the station by morning in order to find somewhere else with food. If not, the frost might not be the thing they were most afraid of.

Max seemed anxious about Gwen coming with them on the ice fishing trip, and if he were the adult here he wouldn’t have let her. Hell, he wouldn’t have let  _ anyone _ come onto the ice. To him, it was better to go alone ignoring the risks than to let anyone else get dragged down with him. Especially after what had already happened with Gwen.

Instead, he decided to do the same job he had yesterday, patrolling the edges of the lake while the adults tried to catch something.

After David had made it through the small layer of ice that had formed overnight, both he and Gwen situated themselves on the ice, anxious to know that they wouldn’t be doing much except sitting there until they caught something.

Gwen read the fishing guide aloud for David as he watched the pole, waiting for any sign of movement. As time went by without even a tug, she began to wonder if this was any better than being stuck at the cabin. After going through the advice the guide had to offer she tried to offer her own.

“Do we have any bait? Maybe try wiggling it? Are you sure the hook is on right?”

David’s responses began to grow snappy after a while, and before long, they were fighting.

“You can try if you think you can do better!” 

“I didn’t say shit! You’re the one who said you’ve fished before!”

“Yes, in the river behind my grandmother’s house, in the summer, when I was a kid!”

“Well it’s not like  _ I’m  _ an expert, I’m just reading what the guide says-”

“Will you guys please  _ shut it?! _ ” Max yelled, still on the edge of the lake. “I can hear you guys from here! You’re gonna scare all the fish!”

Gwen stood up, throwing her arms into the air as a surrender as David looked down, hoping to hide his face. Tears began to form at the corner of his eyes — he was cold and hungry and felt guilty for how short tempered he’d been. Gwen walked away, putting her hands on her head and composing herself for a minute before returning.

“I’m sorry.” She said with a sigh. “It’s… Just the cold, you know?”

David held back his tears, letting what was there fall and the rest dry. “We’re hangry, huh?” He said, keeping his voice steady.

“Hangry?”

“You know, when you get so hungry that you get angry. Hungry-angry. Hangry.” He spoke with a smile and was rewarded with a small laugh from Gwen, taking a moment just to enjoy this.

He really,  _ really _ didn’t want to fuck this up.

Suddenly, the fishing pole in his hands was tugged, and he looked at the end of it. It wobbled, and he gasped as he stood up to reel it in. “You caught something? You caught something!” Gwen gasped, standing up as well if only out of excitement.

The fish he reeled in was maybe as big as his palm, but it was still  _ something. _

“Oh my gosh!” He gasped, beaming as the fish flailed on the end of the line. “I can’t believe it! We caught something!” As he celebrated, Max came to the center of the lake with them, the excitement drawing him in and putting away any anxieties for a moment.

The fish flopped helplessly on the line, and as everyone looked at it, they began to wonder. Max spoke, hands in his pockets and excited to see how this would turn out. “What now?” He asked, a small smile on his face.

“We… Kill it.” Gwen said, watching the small fish as it hung in the air.

It was silent for a long moment, and all Max could do was smile as he watched the adult’s gears turning.

“You do it.” Gwen said quickly.

“What? No!” David exclaimed, wide eyed.

“You’re the one who’s fished before!”

“Catch and release fishing! I’ve never killed anything before!”

Gwen looked back at the fish, thinking. Humming with thought, she reached down at her feet for the hatchet, and David winced and looked away as he held out the fishing rod, hoping he wouldn’t see what was about to come.

“Calm down,” Gwen started, “I’m just gonna try and knock it out.” She took in a deep breath, lining up the flat side of the hatchet with the fish as it struggled against the hook. With a wet  _ thwack, _ the fish became still.

“Okay.” David said, still sounding anxious. “I… I can take it from here, I think. I learned how to cook a fish a while back, so maybe I can…” He trailed, off, taking the fish off it’s hook and putting it down on the ice. Gwen handed him the hatchet, and David took a deep breath as he positioned the blade to the end of the fish’s neck.

It twitched, and David screamed as it started flopping on the ice, only having been briefly stunned by Gwen’s bat at it. She burst out laughing as David dropped the hatchet and slipped backwards, falling flat on the ice as he squealed. After a moment, he joined in the laughter.

“You squealed like a pig!” She gasped and sat down on the ice. Max walked around the adults, picking the hatchet off the ice and quickly cutting the fish’s head off like it was the easiest thing he’d done all day.

“You, both of you, are babies.” Max said with a smile, then dropped the hatchet on the ground next to the fish, twitching it’s last. “It’s a  _ fish _ .”

Gwen covered her mouth as she continued to laugh, and David laid down on the ice, sighing. “It’s  _ just _ a fish.” He told himself. “But I caught a fish!”

“One fish. Singular.”

“I am mighty hunter! Catcher of fish!”

“I’m sure you are,” Gwen got out in between laughs.

“All fish bow before me!”

 

His statement proved to be somewhat true.

Max had lent David his Swiss Army Knife so he could gut the fish, and after throwing the parts they couldn’t eat into the hole, catching fish became easier as they reached up to get their fill.

Gwen used a cleaned out fruit can to put the fish in as Max carefully cooked it over a fire inside the last remaining ice fishing hut's heater, and David reeled in the fish that came, few but appreciated all the same.

After eating, the scraps and uncooked fish were put in a snow filled can outside to keep cold for bait the following day. After eating, everyone could finally say completely genuinely that they were full, and the hunger that had been gnawing on them for nearly two weeks and finally subsided.

The rest of the day was spent in front of the furnace, everyone fully enjoying the warmth around them and dreaming of home.

“It’s quiet.” Max commented, laid down with his feet planted in the floor.

“Yeah,” Gwen quietly agreed. “Wish we had some music. Man, it’s the little things, huh?”

Max nodded, knowing what she meant. It was strange to miss such simple things, things like music or car rides or even your daily commute. Hell, Max was even beginning to think he missed  _ school, _ though he swore he would never let it come to that.

“What was school like for you?” He asked, trying to start conversation with whatever was on his mind.

Gwen took a moment to think, trying to find the words to describe it. “Short.” She started. “I skipped two grades, I think it was? Once in elementary school, and another time in middle. I was 16 when I graduated, my sister was still a sophomore.” The word  _ sister _ fell off her tongue like it was a curse in a child’s mouth, quiet and making the rest of her sentence fade away.

The kid sat up to look at Gwen, debating whether or not to ask. “Sister?”

Gwen nodded. “We were twins, and she was more focused on her style than me. I just really wanted to get good grades. We were identical, but you could tell us apart pretty easily — I was always wearing pullover sweaters and whatever jeans I could find, while she wore these tall black converse boots and a bomber jacket with a bunch of patches. Lot of classic grunge.”

“Did something happen to her?”

“Passed away the summer I graduated.” Gwen said simply.

“Oh.” Max didn’t know what to say, and felt bad for bringing it up. “I’m sorry.”

Gwen shook her head. “It’s been a long time. It’s fine.”

Max simply nodded, letting the crackle of the fireplace take place of conversation again. He laid back, touching the bandages on his hand and thinking about the cut underneath.  _ Probably gonna scar, _ he thought feeling the line of the cut underneath the bandaids there.

“It’s quiet.” He said again, looking outside to see that the sun was going down.

“Do you want it to be  _ less _ quiet?” Gwen asked with a smile.

Max considered it for a moment, looking at the sky as it faded to a darker shade of gray than it used to be. “No.” He decided, standing up. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Good night.” Gwen said, and David spoke up from his spot laying on the floor.

“G’night!” He said, and Max made his way up the stairs.

He was still sore, still had injuries that he was trying to heal from, but for now his belly was full.

For now, that was all he could ask for.


	15. Underneath This Concrete Sky — Day Thirteen

Max was first to wake, and was greeted by the especially cold morning light. The gray bedroom had seen an infiltration of frost over the night as the furnace’s fire went out while everyone inside slept, painfully peaceful.

He was aching as he snuck out of bed, trying not to wake Gwen and David. They had found themselves getting closer in the night, now being held to keep warm in the cold room.

Max wasn’t completely oblivious. David hadn’t said anything about it, but the way he looked at the northern lights that night that they appeared, the way he looked at himself and at Gwen, it was obvious. And he looked scared out of his mind when he took it all in.

And Max didn’t think he would ever understand that. He just couldn’t imagine himself seeing someone in that kind of light, couldn’t imagine that he could ever be so scared to lose someone. 

He looked at David and Gwen one more time before he silently made his way downstairs, too cold to think about anything other than the fact that he needed to start a fire.

 

When David made his way downstairs, he saw Max sitting in front of the furnace with the first  _ Harry Potter _ book open in his hands, just a few pages in but seeming to have tuned out of the world. The whole station had warmed up, but the howl of the wind outside was as loud as ever.

“Morning, Max!” David said cheerily.

Max didn’t even look up from his book. “Mornin’.”

David looked out of the window at the rushing wind, watching it pick snow off the ground and twirl around itself, tangling the snowy landscape further. Just past the treeline, it wove through the branches, bringing heavier winter to the forest and chasing away the last remains of deer and elk, and just past that the wolves waited for them. And far beyond where David could see, it scraped against the rocky cliffs of the mountains, slowly working away the granite and willing it to fall. 

Though it would not today. Mountains take time to move, after all.

“Do you want something to eat for breakfast?”

Max hummed for a moment, taking a minute to process the question. He had been focussed on his book instead of David, and was caught off guard by the question. “Um, sure.” He responded after a moment.

“I’ll probably wake Gwen up and then cook the fish we left in that can outside if that’s okay?”

“Yeah.” Max said.

David let Max immerse himself into his book once again as he put on a coat heavy coat and hat. As he walked outside to clean the pan they had used to grill yesterday, he thought of how strange it was for him to have settled into this routine.

But he knew that humankind as it was made it this far through it’s adaptability, through it’s determination to survive, and he was no exception. He knew that it was not him who made his heart beat or lungs breathe. He knew that these actions of his body were involuntary. Though he had never considered himself an exceptionally strong person, he knew there was nothing stronger in him than the will to survive.

But as humans do, they move on, always looking for something better. Always looking for something new. Always looking for something.

 

The smell of grilled fish woke Gwen up, and though she was as full as she had been since the crash, her stomach growled and pulled her out of bed. It was strangely domestic downstairs, Max reading and David coking and being greeted to small “good mornings”. Though the snow that lead to the lake was windswept and cold, she felt hopeful, if only for the fact that they could eat something cooked fresh.

“Plans?” Gwen asked simply.

“Yeah, I was thinking about it. We should probably try and keep fishing, but I also kind of wanted to check out the tracks again. We didn’t get a great look around the left side, and it might be worth it to look around, right?”

“That sounds like a great idea.” Gwen said with a smile. “We should probably come with you, right?”

David shook his head and moved to the ground where Max and Gwen sat, holding the pan of grilled fish. “I was thinking I’d go down there by myself quickly, and you two could fish. If we’re actually leaving, we need to be stocked up on food, and we can freeze fish to take it with us and keep any canned food stored.”

Gwen thought for a moment, anxiety showing through her expression. Something that hadn’t happened since she woke up. “I don’t know. What if there’s something out there? A wild animal, or God forbid the guy with the drugs?”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. Regardless, unless you know how to fight a bear, there’s not much of a difference you’ll make. I’m just going to run to the end of the tracks and back, I’ll probably be back before the sun goes down.” David spoke reassuringly, hoping that it would help him be more confident in his ability, too.

“If you’re sure. And you’ll turn around if anything goes wrong?” David nodded, and Gwen sighed as she started eating her breakfast, silently hoping that nothing would go wrong today.

Max brought his book with him for the fishing trip, tucking it into his hoodie pocket before putting on a second layer on. With how the wind was whipping, he wished he had a third coat to put on top of his, along with maybe even a hat; the cold seeped through his two jackets with ease, and soon enough he would begin to feel the cold tingle of frostbite on his fingertips.

Gwen was quietly listing off everything they had, trying to make sure they had everything they would need. “I feel like we’re missing something. You have the hatchet?” 

“Yep!” David said cheerily. “I’m sure we’ve got everything, you don’t need to worry.” He reassured, but Gwen shifted her weight and pursed her lips.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay on your own? Max could come with you if he’s up to it, I’d be okay to fish on my own.” Gwen said, and Max beside her just listened.

“I’m sure everything is fine. Are you okay? You seem really on edge.” He asked.

“I’m fine.” She said, then sighed and admitted, “I had a shitty dream and now I’m all worked up. But seriously, Max would be probably be okay with coming along, right?” She looked to the kid, who thought for a moment.

“I… I don’t really want you to be at the lake alone.” He admitted. “It’s more dangerous there. It’s an open area, and there’s more I could do if something happened.” He paused for a moment, quietly adding. “The ice could crack again.”

Max looked at the ground as he walked, his expression showing nothing as he continued on. Gwen watched him for a moment, looking at his steadfast disposition before speaking again.

“I guess you’re right.” She resigned, and turned to look at David again. “Just try to be back before it gets dark, okay?”

“Of course. I’ll get firewood and everything too, and if you’re not at the lake when I get back I’ll meet you at the station, okay?” He was calm and encouraging, hoping to really make Gwen believe he would be okay.

“Okay.” Gwen said, and the lake came into view as the conversation faded.

 

The train tracks had no footprints on them, the remnants of David, Gwen, and Max’s presence disappearing under the wind. The underbrush broke the breeze some, but the cold still remained, biting and gnawing at David’s clothes.

He turned to the right, looking down the opposite direction for a moment. The air was blurred, snow being thrown into the air and into David’s line of vision. There was no trace of the train cars, but he knew that they were a good twenty miles down the tracks anyways. There was no point in returning to them.

So he continued down the right side of the tracks, trying to protect his face from the flurries of snow in the air. If wasn’t long before the wreckage came back into view, a short walk compared to how long and barren the other side of the tracks was. 

It had been almost a week since he had been here, and nothing had changed. The corpses hadn’t even rotten further, the cold keeping them frozen and hard for the scavengers to eat. As David walked through the graveyard, he held his breath, trying to change his focus.  _ Maybe I should collect any licenses I find,  _ he thought, remembering something from a movie about needing to let people know their loved ones had died.

But David didn’t want to get closer to them than he already had to. The thought of touching their singed pockets made him want to shrivel up and sob.

_ It could have been me. _

His stomach turned as he continued on, finding the place where he and Gwen had found the two backpacks the last time they were here. He passed by the charred metal that had pinned down Max’s foster mother as she reached for her husband, and he took a moment to look at them.

He remembered the way Max had flinched when David had held that can.

He remembered his need to help as he constantly tried to fend for himself.

He remembered every defensive move he had made, how he would be ready to raise his fists and bare his teeth at any sign of trouble. 

David looked at the couple, and for a moment, truly hated them for everything they may have done. For a moment, he let himself seethe, as fiercely as he ever had, as true as he ever would.

But unlike the couple that lay in front of him, dead and slowly rotting away, he would make sure to do his job right. Unlike them, he would do his best to be a good parent while he still could.

So he turned around, letting himself move on from it. He had more important things to do than sit around hating someone that was already gone.

 

The wind was colder than it was in the forest over the lake. Without foliage to break the breeze, Gwen and Max were left sitting on the ice shivering and hoping to catch anything in the frozen lake.

The quiet was peaceful, something Gwen was thankful for; she didn’t think she could take an awkward silence while fending off an anxiety attack. No matter how many times she reassured herself that he would be fine, she hated not knowing what was happening to David. For all she knew, he could have been attacked by something already, or have fallen into some lake or river, or have found the guy with drugs.

For all she knew, he could have found rescue. And if he  _ had, _ would he still come back for the two people who sat on the lake, waiting for him?

“Jesus, you look like you’re choking on something.” Max said, interrupting her thought. She breathed in suddenly, not realizing that she had forgotten to.

“Sorry, I just…” She trailed off, focusing on her breathing.

“You don’t need to apologize for me asking what’s wrong.”

_ Right. Code, I guess. _ She knew that Max wasn’t very upfront, especially with anything regarding sentimentality. “Yeah, thanks. I’m just anxious.” Max nodded in response and shivered as another breeze passed by, hand pressed to keep the pages of his book from flying away. “You can head back to the station if you want, it’s cold.”

Max shook his head. “It’s fine.” Silently, Gwen was relieved to hear him say that. She didn’t want their group to get further separated than it already was, and not knowing if Max was okay would push her over the edge.

A small tug pulled on the fishing pole in Gwen’s hand, and she jerked the line. Max watched as she gleefully reeled in a small fish, not much in the way of food but definitely good for bait.

Fishing proved itself to be harder than it appeared, and as the cold and windy hours passed, fishing was getting harder and harder. As the sky began to dim, turning a vibrant shade, she felt a hard pull on the line, and as she wrestled with the fish on the end of it, she felt her heart jump.

It was at least the size of her forearm, thrashing in the air and she smiled and laughed. Max jumped up from his spot, looking at the fish. “Holy shit!” He exclaimed. “How the hell’d you manage that?”

“Hell if I know!” She said, smiling widely. The fish struggled against the line, and the fishing pole bent with it’s weight, it’s shadow stretching across the ice as the sun bent lower and lower into the sky. “I say we quit while we’re ahead.”

Max nodded, standing up and balling his frostbitten fingers into a fist to warm them up. 

As he walked back to the sation with Gwen, he couldn’t help but wonder where David was, and small anxieties began to turn in his stomach.

For now, though, he would be grateful for what he had, and let the promise of his fill of grilled fish keep him moving.

 

They decided to hold off on eating until David came home, but as the sky fully darkened, anxieties and hunger were on the rise, two beasts swirling around and feeding each other in their own right. The wind began to die down, echoing off the mountains and fading away.

Gwen sat in front of the fire next to Max, writing in her journal. Maybe this wasn’t healthy — dwelling on how bad things were might have been a bad thing. But every time she closed it, signing off the date and watching the paper bend, she felt some strange sort of release.

She wrote her concerns about David’s whereabouts, the anxiety lifting briefly as she did. But when she finished that and he still hadn’t come back, she found it growing once again. She busied herself, organizing papers and creating new ‘keep’ and ‘kindling’ piles, sorting through supplies, emptying out pockets and backpacks.

After a long while, heavy footsteps found their way to the steps outside, and bothe Gwen and Max looked at the door anxiously.

“Sorry I’m so late!” David said as he entered the door, and everyone sighed with relief. David seemed tired out and chilled to the bone, a second backpack on top of the one had brought. “I found a good amount of supplies, but carrying them back was a bit of a pain.”

“Jesus,” Gwen sighed. “You could have gotten one of us out there to help, you know.”

“I was pretty far out there! I found this giant river, followed it upstream for a little while until I found this.” He took off the smaller of the backpacks and presented it. “It doesn’t have much, a half eaten bag of chips and box of cereal, and some frozen water bottles. It’s still pretty good though!” He put down the backpack and sat down in front of the fireplace, opening the bigger one to take out the firewood he gathered. “Did you guys have any luck?”

“Gwen caught a real big fish.” Max said, closing his book. He was drawing closer to the end, and it proved to be a good distraction.

“Which reminds me, I’m starving. We decided to wait for you to get back to eat.” Gwen said as she put on her coat to grab the fish from outside. “That, and I don’t know how to cook a fish.”

David laughed lightly, and stretched before standing up. “I’ll help you out.”

Gwen had never been a good cook, but it seemed to come to David naturally. He was quick to say otherwise, saying he just got lucky since his mom was such a good cook and he got her to teach him, but the important part of what David did was that he enjoyed it. The process was therapeutic for him, and without anything to season the fish with, it was simple.

Though things seemed tense when he first walked in, the air was lighter now, and the scarlet fire twisted as it lit up the dark station.

Home had been something familiar to David, something easily identifiable.  _ Home _ and  _ Old Orchard Beach, ME _ were synonyms in his mind,  _ home _ was a three story house with a tiny kitchen and an attic bedroom and family photos that lined the walls.  _ Home _ was with his mother and sisters, telling stories and laughing about the way things were.

But as language and time both do, things had changed. Though  _ home _ was a long ways away, he had something here that felt a lot like it, left a taste in his mouth that reminded him of home.

With a secret in his backpack and enough hope to keep checking the sky, looking for airplanes or even just a shooting star, he decided this was enough. Just for now, this was enough.

But it wasn’t hard for him to say that maybe what he had here was better than anything he could have asked for. After all, everyone was still alive, and what more could he really ask for?


	16. Strangely, It Feels At Home In This House — Day Fourteen

_We’re leaving tomorrow._

Gwen had barely opened her eyes, squinting in the late morning light. She had managed to sleep in late, if only to keep herself from getting up.

She didn’t want to leave. They had everything they needed, a dusty old bed and furnace and a lake with fish in it. She wanted to stay here, stay with her books no matter how many times she re-read them until someone found the smoke trails coming from the station.

Or perhaps it would be too late. Maybe it would not be smoke to attract someone, but a heavy and dreadful smell.

She shook off the thought, scolding herself quickly. _Bad time for this,_ she told herself, knowing that she had a job to do, knowing that she had people to take care of.

But she couldn’t even get out of bed right now. Helping with the daily routine wasn’t even a possibility at this point.

As she turned in bed, she began to notice David’s absence. The bed didn’t bend to his weight, just small Max behind her, but her listlessness kept her from acting on her inquisitiveness.

As if on cue, she heard the door from outside close and David shuffling downstairs, and she let that calm any hint of anxiety, falling back asleep quickly.

 

“Hey, wake up.” David’s whisper accompanied by a hand on her shoulder got her to stir, and her body was quick to protest. “Come on, I got a surprise for you.”

Gwen tensed her body for a moment, trying to stretch without moving from her spot on the bed. “Alright, gimme a sec.” She moved slowly, trying to shake off the tiredness in her body before following David downstairs. _Shouldn’t have overslept,_ she thought bitterly for a moment, but it turned to a lighthearted curiousness as she saw what David had done to surprise her.

“So, I don’t know if you celebrate Christmas, but I thought it’d be good to at least decorate a bit. I counted the days since we got here and I’m pretty sure today is Christmas day, so I thought maybe a bit of holiday cheer would help lighten the mood!”

David smiled widely as he presented what he had brought into the house, a small pine tree with pointed needles on it’s branches. It wasn’t decorated much, but the oil lamp that they had found forever ago was hung on the highest branch, and crumpled up pieces of paper took the spot of ornaments.

Gwen looked at the tree, wide eyed. She had been counting the days since the crash, retelling every detail of what had happened in her journal, and yet she hadn’t even noticed how close the holiday was drawing.

It made her incredibly homesick to see the tree. The holidays had always been a stressful time, but Christmas morning, after meeting with family and being able to sit at home under the tree with her mother and father and brother and sister… It had always felt like magic.

“What do you think? I’m sorry if you don’t do Christmas, I probably should have asked-”

David was interrupted by Gwen hugging him, holding tight and burying her face into his shoulder. “It’s amazing, David.” She whispered, soft and genuine. He sighed with relief, wrapping his arms around her in return.

For a while, they just stood there like that, letting the world around them fade away. They were able to relax if only for a moment, forgetting how much there was left to do, how much they had left to fix.

For a moment, they could just breathe, letting the cold forget their names.

 

Despite how badly everyone just wanted to stay inside, they knew they still had to go through the daily routine, collect firewood and fish before things would change.

Max seemed to really like the tree, though he expressed it sparingly. Instead, he would sit closer to the tree rather than in front of the fire, silently enjoying the smell of pine. Despite being surrounded by evergreens, it was hard to smell anything other than bitter cold, and the small change of pace from fire smoke and snow was something he enjoyed.

Regardless, it wasn’t long until they head out once again, leaving the familiar feelings of the station once again.

It was the same as the day before, Gwen and Max fishing at the lake while David head out to look for supplies. It took a deep breath and a lot of steadying his nerves to decide to head to the main crash site once again, and he could only hope it wouldn’t hurt as bad as the first time around.

 

The field was the same as it had been before, but now the snow had settled in around the torn metal and corpses, a snowfield graveyard in the middle of nowhere.

David held his breath for a moment, looking around. He could see the hunter’s blind from where he stood, devoid of any signs of life, and for a moment, nothing in the world moved. Even the trees stopped swaying in the wind, just to grieve.

But as the world always does, it began moving once again, and David followed in it’s footsteps.

He could convince himself that he wasn’t avoiding what he was looking at as he made his way to the hunter’s blind, but that didn’t make it any less true. It was still almost entirely empty inside, aside from a small set of drawers that revealed nothing he could use. Just a small bag of light blue sugar that he was quick to drop.

He felt like this place was a memory from a lifetime ago. He could remember sitting on the floor, head spinning as he tried to orient himself, dizzy and cold and helpless. It had been two long, dreadful weeks, but the memories seemed so far away. The man he used to be, freckled and adventurous and oblivious, was a stranger.

David touched his cheeks, trying to remember what they used to feel like, what he used to be. He tried to recall the roundness of them, inherited from his youth, tried to remember what they felt like after shaving, what it felt like to be warm.

But it was all foreign, and he was left to sit there and wonder how long it would be until he could welcome himself back into this body.

By midday, David was making his way back to the lake, backpack not as heavy as he wished it were but filled enough to know he had made progress. Almost everything had burned in the crash, and there wasn’t much to scavenge from the crash sites.

As David had looked through the rubble, a question burned in his mind — surely this wasn’t everyone that had been on the plane? There were at least 150 seats on it, not to mention all of the crew onboard. Could there have been more parts of the plane? More spots that people could have survived?

Was there really anyone else out here who could have survived that?

He simply sighed, letting the question leave with his breath as he walked back to the lake.

 

Everyone was glad to get back to the station, despite the lack of supplies they had found. Gwen and Max had only caught two small fish, but with the excess from yesterday, it was enough.

Though everyone was fully prepared to spend the day doing nothing, David had just one more thing he wanted to do.

“While I was out yesterday and today, I found a few things, and I figured I’d wait until Christmas to give them all to you!” David said, grabbing the backpack he had worn yesterday and putting it in front of him as he sat down.

Gwen and Max looked at him curiously as he dug around the firewood, pulling out a handful of things.

“I couldn’t find anything to wrap it with, sorry about that-” David explained, handing a small stack of books to Gwen. “But I figured since you hated the book we found in here so much, you might want some new ones!” Gwen looked at the books wide eyed and read the titles, some she recognized and others she didn’t — _Leaving Time_ by Jodi Picoult, _Everything, Everything_ by Nicola Yoon, _The Book Thief_ by Markus Zusak, and more. She smiled as she looked at the covers of them, paperback and slightly damaged from the wet snow but still beautiful to look at.

“I was only able to find small things for you, but I figure it might help keep you from getting bored.” David said to Max, handing him a few things: a deck of cards, a yo-yo, and the first book of the _Percy Jackson_ series. Along with it, David put a few candy bars in his hand, leaving one to Gwen as well.

Gwen thanked him, genuine and sincere and still not feeling like she had done enough — this morning she didn’t even know how she was going to manage to stand up, and yet now here she was being rewarded for how hard she had tried, for all of the efforts of these past two weeks. It was a small reward, not nearly what she had hoped for, but it was still appreciated all the same.

Max expressed his thanks differently. He quickly opened one of the candy bars, a pair of Twix, and without making eye contact handed one of them to David, who shook his head. “It’s your present, I don’t need-”

“Just take it.” Max said, almost hissing. “It’s Christmas.”

David paused for a moment, smiling widely and taking the candy bar.

 

The day passed slowly and pleasantly, talk of family and holidays spreading while they avoiding discussing just what they were missing back home. David talked about his sisters, and about the jokes they would play on him when they were young. “Taylor convinced me she could breathe through her ears when I was a kid. I spent the whole week trying to teach myself how.” He said with a smile, laughing about it.

“How? Did you just hold your breath and hope it would happen?” Gwen asked.

“Exactly! I don’t know why I thought it would work!” He exclaimed, and Max and Gwen laughed. “And my oldest sister Amelia convinced me you would explode if you held in a fart!”

“I think my siblings were conspiring against me,” Gwen said. “My sister would come up with the ideas, but Tony, my little brother, was always the one to act them out. He learned how to crochet just so he could yarn bomb my desk.”

“Did he cover the things on it, too?” Max asked.

“Yes! He even made _fake sheets of paper_ out of yarn. I was mad about it for a little while, but it was actually pretty cool. I think I have a picture of it at home, in a family album or something. Mom loves those things.”

As the sunlight faded, so too did conversation, everyone content with sitting in the firelight until it began to die down. Once the moon had fully risen above the horizon, Max decided to go to bed, and he knew it wouldn’t be long until the adults followed suit. But still, letting the two of them have a moment of privacy was a good thing.

Max wasn’t completely oblivious, not like David or Gwen, and he could tell. The way he had looked at the lights in the sky not that long ago, the way he looked at himself in the reflection of windows and ice, even the way he looked at Max — all of it was different now.

And yet Gwen hadn’t taken any hint to it. She didn’t seem to notice David’s newfound determination, and if she had then she must have created a reason for it that had nothing to do with her.

But Max believed he was smart enough to see how things had changed, or maybe it was just his perspective. Max could see how David shuddered at the idea of Gwen being put in the face of danger, how he had suddenly gotten more serious and more protective.

It could have been a good thing. Motivation was hard to come by in a place like this, and the group of them could use as much of it as they could find. Maybe this could keep them going just a little bit longer, be the final push to finding rescue.

But still, as Max looked at the two of them sitting together in front of the fire, one apathetic thought filled his tired mind.

_We’re fucked._

 

Though they were tired and the night was growing long, sleep refused to come to them. David and Gwen laid in bed across from each other, in their normal spots but restless all the same.

“Did you have a good Christmas?” David asked quietly. He and Gwen were close, comfortable in each other’s space for the moment. She nodded, scanning his face in the dark.

“Why do you ask?” She whispered.

David shrugged. “Wanted to make sure it was good. You deserve it.”

Gwen smiled, still letting her gaze flicker around. No matter how hard she searched she couldn’t find anything abnormal. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t picture the green of David’s eyes, or the ginger color of his hair and the beard that was filling out. “Thanks,” she whispered again.

As sleep began to wrap around her body, she saw David draw close, and she did nothing but turn her head to angle it against his.

His lips caught against her’s, chapped and capturing a million different thoughts, trying to convey just how enamored was with her. Trying to tell her something he had struggled to say out of fear, something she had begun to reciprocate without even knowing it.

It was nothing more than a simple brush of the lips, but like a ghost the feeling haunted her skin, a memory burned into it. All she could do was hope that in the morning, both she and her body would remember the feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I haven't left a note on this for a while, and had a few things I wanted to say!
> 
> First, updates on this story will be weekly for quite a while! Since I'm so far ahead on writing this compared to what I've posted, I decided that I'll be posting a chapter every Friday until it's either done or I'm out of chapters. Though I can't guarantee it'll be like this till the end of the story, I certainly am going to try!
> 
> Next, I thought I'd mention my Tumblr again! I'm very active on there, and if you'd like to send a message to me I always respond quickly. My Camp Camp blog is **more-camp-camp-fic-please** , but if you'd like to join me and my friends for our weekly movie stream (also on Fridays, after updates) you should go and follow **amirrorcalledthemoon**. 
> 
> Lastly, I just want to thank you all once again. Seeing you guys' comments really help inspire me and keep me writing, and it makes updating something I look forward to all the time. Thank you for all the kind words, and as always, thank you for reading!


	17. I’d Rather Drown Than To Go On Without You — Day Fifteen, Part One

A breath of wind passed the station, tracing the cracks in it’s gray wood. The morning light illuminated the windows of the firewatch station, passing over the soon to be abandoned papers and pamphlets on the dark desks and countertops. The trees outside bended with the breeze soundlessly, and it made the station feel so much colder.

Gwen had started a small fire, only supplying it with kindling and the smallest log she could find. If they weren’t coming back, there was no reason to waste firewood warming it up.

Her fingers felt weak as she packed everything away, counting the last few cans of food and supplies and everything else. She could barely pull zippers closed, tired and weak and wishing she could have just stayed asleep. Her restlessness had woken her up as soon as the sun had made it’s way over the mountains, and now she was stuck feeling exhausted and not being able to do anything about it.

All she could do was prepare for the storm about to come and do her best to not start hyperventilating thinking about it.

As she let a conscious breath leave her lips, she could feel the ghost of David’s on them, a memory stuck on repeat in her mind. It was the best distraction she could find, and was very efficient in keeping her preoccupied — when she wasn’t thinking about it, she could feel the pit in her stomach dragging her down, but the simple memory kept her grounded better than anything else she could remember.

Gwen looked at her hands against the fabric of the backpack, both of them being dim shades of gray.

She hadn’t known of any love other than that of her family’s throughout her life. She had never known what it was like to lean on someone outside of her family, to let them lean on you. The only love she had experienced thus far was nothing like what she was faced with now, and even this she thought would be different. 

And yet here she was, knowing that within two or three weeks, every cell of her skin will have replaced itself. And yet here she was, knowing that the memory would remain.

The only love she had ever known had been so foreign to this one, and yet she still swore that she would do everything in her power not to lose it.

 

Though the station was quiet as everyone made their last preparations before leaving, it was not tense. Max busied himself with his new yo-yo, leaning on the counter as David smiled and helped cook the last of the fish they had caught. Though they didn’t usually eat a very big breakfast, they knew they would need the calories.

David smiled as he cooked, not at all looking troubled at the thought of leaving. Gwen wished she could do that, focus on just one thing and be happy with that. She wished that she could let herself breathe easy, even while knowing that she had no idea what they were up against.

But life is never that easy, so she breathed out and continued on, trying not to think about the fact that the world would continue to spin around her through every moment of what was yet to come.

When everyone had finished eating, they all took a backpack, most of them not entirely filled but leaving room for anything they’d pick up along the way. The branches of the tree in the station bent with the breeze as the door opened, and with a final silent goodbye to the station, it shut quickly and tightly.

The station’s dying breath seeped out of it’s doors and windows, finally left to be forgotten. Finally left to the Canadian wilderness where it had been built, destined to die in the cold.

Finally, it had been let go, able to lie still in the snow until the morning light no longer rose upon it.

 

The path was as unending and unchanging as it had been the last time everyone had been here, still snowy and abandoned. Still uninterrupted in it’s isolation.

David could feel the memory of his last trek through the tracks in him, cold and gray and forever unchanging. He could feel the shuffle in the snow next to him, the air all around heavy and thick with bitterness.

He shook off the feeling, replacing it with an assured smile in the hopes of keeping the memory at bay.

The sun was at it’s height by the time the old train cars came into view. The long hike had tired everyone out, and they were all glad to have some place semi-familiar to rest at.

But by the time they rounded the corner to look inside the car, a deep feeling of dread had settled in their stomachs.

The wood on the walls was scattered with gunshots, splintered and bent in all sorts of ways. The metal barrel in the middle of the car didn’t look any better, knocked over and dented in as many places as it could have been without collapsing. The small plastic container they had found the lighter and accelerant in had been smashed to bits, scattered around the floor. 

No one moved, taking in the scene. This both looked and felt like a murder scene, and it filled everyone with unease. David moved slowly and cautiously as he lifted himself into the train car, looking around.

A handful of stray bullets had found their way to the ground, bronze and singed with gunpowder stains. David felt his stomach drop as he continued to look around, seeing the spilt ash from the metal barrel on the floor.

It was all a mixture of dark gray and black, all excepting the small forgotten patches of light blue sugar in the midst of it all.

As David turned to exit the car, Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her. “We can’t stay here.” He said quickly, on edge and tense.

“I’m sure it’s safe, we just won’t touch anything, and-” Her sentence was cut short by a shaky breath, revealing her fear.

She had had suspicions, the quiet thought of  _ what if someone else is out here _ chewing at the corners of her mind, but this just proved it. Before, she could make excuses, say that the fire at the ice fishing cabin was just the fire they had left, say that the drugs had been here for ages and had no one left to pick them up. But within the week that they hadn’t been here, someone else had come in.

They were trapped out here with someone who had a gun.

And who  _ clearly _ had not taken kindly to their presence.

“We can find somewhere else to rest,” David said as he jumped down from the train car. He looked at Gwen and put a careful hand on her shoulder, noticing her shaky breaths. “Are you okay?” She nodded silently, feeling a jolt of panic as she whipped around to check on Max, who hadn’t moved an inch since first seeing the train car.

He just wanted to go back to the station. More than anything in the world, he just wanted to go home.

“Come on, we’ll find somewhere else to sit down.” David comforted, though Max didn’t need it. He put a hand on the kid’s back, if only to ground himself for a moment.

Gwen bit her tongue to keep from crying out as she forced her aching legs to keep her moving. Though David had moved his hand away from her, she reached out to it.

She was scared and cold, but having her fingers intertwined with David’s at least helped keep her warm.

 

The spot they found to rest wasn’t ideal, but it was safer.

Some time after the pond, still scarred with broken ice even now, they found a thin trail in the forest beside the tracks. It led to a small clearing with a tall rock, looking to be an old campsite. The clouds in the sky hung heavy, and as everyone climbed on top of the snowy rock, all they could do was hope that snow wouldn’t be a problem until they found someplace more sheltered.

No one wanted to talk about what they had seen. They knew what it had meant, and the idea of someone out here with a gun wasn’t something they wanted to discuss.

Instead, they remained quiet, just as they had for the whole day beforehand. They sat in their spot, vigilant and ready to run at the first sign of danger.

Gwen wanted to find something talk about. She hated the silence, hated the tension and hated how awful she felt. Her anxiety had slowly sucked what little energy she had left in her body, and if she had it her way, she would have leaned back on David and fallen asleep.

But the sound of frozen foliage being shuffled around in the forest in front of her sent a shot of adrenaline through her veins.

David and Max noticed too, and they looked to the woods, becoming still as the stone underneath them. David moved off the rock, approaching the sound cautiously.

Through the underbrush, a dark gray figure made it’s way into the clearing, it’s breath loud as it huffed in the cold air. Hooves left imprints in the snow behind it, and the horns towering above it’s head cleared the branches from it’s path.

“Caribou,” David whispered, looking at it’s dark eyes as they looked down on him. They normally weren’t this big, normally wouldn’t even approach people. In his shock, he froze, simply waiting for the animal to move.

For a while, it simply made it’s judgements from above David’s height, scanning him before bellowing and slowly beginning to walk away. It made it’s way around the rock, back to the trail Gwen, Max, and David had come from.

No one moved to follow it until it stopped at the railroad tracks, looking over it’s towering shoulders and huffing at them. It’s tail twitched, and it didn’t move.

Max looked at David and Gwen, who were still frozen and staring at the caribou. He knew that these creatures could be violent, but he could have sworn it was waiting for them to follow. It wasn’t threatening them, and knew it was probably too massive for them to attack regardless.

He was cautious as he slid off the rock, taking slow steps closer to the deer. David watched with panic, but unable to say anything out of fear of the beast, signaled for Gwen to follow.

When everyone had begun to follow the caribou’s path, it continued down the path, travelling farther and farther from the train cars.

The animal’s behavior had completely baffled David. Everything he had heard about these animals was that they were territorial and violent, and much smaller than this. Instead, it was patiently leading them down the path, breath coming out in huffs of steam. Through every branching path from the tracks, it continued on, ignoring other routes.

It rounded a corner of the tracks, looking back on the group of humans that had been following it for a moment longer before marching back into the woods where it came from, leaving them behind.

The caribou had to have known where it was leading them, because fate would never be this cruel.

They had been led straight to the base of one of the mountains trapping them, and the tunnel through it for the train had been blocked off. High above them, a sheet of metal had lodged it’s way into the rock, having caused a landslide to cover the entrance of the tunnel. Two bodies laid in the snow off to the side of the debris, cold and having forgotten to rot.

David looked at the wreckage, fallen rock covered with snow. He had no expression on his face, no smile or rosy cheeks dotted with freckles to frame it. He took a small step forward, approaching the pile of rubble silently. If he was quiet enough, maybe it would all fade away. Maybe everything would just stop if he didn’t say a word.

His hand brushed the stone, and he looked at his feet. Splintered wood of railroad tracks, useless charred steel now. For a while, the tracks had been a source of hope. A reason to think rescue was coming after all. 

Where was the rescue team?

_ Blocked. _

When would they be there?

_ Maybe never. _

How will we survive this?

_ We won’t. _

David dropped to his knees, a hand still on the icy stone ahead of him. He took a deep breath in, still looking at the ground.

He screamed.

It was something deep and guttural, filled with a violent rage that he couldn’t recall ever feeling before. His throat ached when he finished, but his eyes were dry, and now nothing filled his head but the knowledge that all of this had been useless.

“Hey, it’s okay, we-” Gwen felt everything that David did, careful to get too close to him while he was this overwhelmed. “We can go around. I think I saw a path back there, it has to lead somewhere, we can still-”

“It doesn’t matter.” David replied, his voice low and quiet.

Gwen stopped talking, looking at the ground.

“None of this does.” He continued. His gaze didn’t shift or flicker even for a second. “We’re gonna die out here. The tracks, the cabins, the train, they’re all dead ends now. Eventually we’re all going to starve, or freeze, or get killed out here. No one’s coming for us.” 

Gwen said nothing, taking a step back. This had to be some fucked up dream,  _ this can’t be happening. _ David spoke once more, his voice quiet and completely apathetic.

“We’ve been as good as dead since the start.”

Nothing, no one moved. The wind was completely still, and even the sun above stopped moving for just a moment to consider David’s words.

Gwen had loved listening to him talk. He was always filled with life in his tone, his every step being something he was proud of, glad to be taking. This snowy wasteland had finally managed to strip that from him, leaving him dulled and filled with despair. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and Gwen began to wonder if things had ever seemed this gray before.

David turned away from the rubble, standing up and looking into the distance apathetically. She understood how he was feeling, and it pained her to know that she agreed.

“How dare you?” Max’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it echoed like David’s scream in the middle of the silent tundra. He stood still as a stone by Gwen, trying to cool a fire that had started far too long ago.

David’s gaze flickered over the kid, but didn’t change.

“How **_dare_ ** _ you?! _ ” Max yelled, seething and marching toward the adult. “Fuck you! Fuck you, you Goddamned cock-sucking bastard! How  _ dare _ you pull me out of that blizzard if this is what you’re gonna do?” Max pushed David in his ribcage, the highest point he could reach.

David didn’t react to Max’s outrage, completely numb to his words as he stumbled a bit.

“ _ Fuck you for saving Gwen and then welcoming her back with this! How dare you spout all that positivity bullshit, how dare you abandon everything you’ve been preaching to us since day fucking one! If you ever cared about us, you wouldn’t give up! If you loved us, you wouldn’t let go! _ ”

He had begun to beat on David’s stomach, knowing well that his weak fists couldn’t break the barrier of clothing. He kicked and screamed, tears flooding down his face.

“ **You don’t get to do this to me! You don’t get to do this to** **_her!_ ** **You don’t get to abandon us more than two weeks into this, not now! You can’t** **_do this_ ** **to us! Fuck you! Fuck you, how could you!** ”

Max’s hits stopped, his voice fading away into a symphony of sobs. He gripped David’s coat, shoving his face into the front of it as he tried to keep going.

“How  _ could  _ you?  _ How could you?! _ ” He sniffled and sobbed, dropping to his knees and curling into himself as he screamed, wailing and howling louder than he had in years. His words dissolved into weeping as he gripped his stomach, aching from his shaky breaths.

David dropped down in front of him, tears beginning to fall down his face. He reached out for Max, but the kid lashed out, swinging a tense arm at him and standing up.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t-” He hiccuped again as he fell backwards, sitting in the snow and sobbing again. David hesitantly approached again, looking pained and touching Max’s shoulder. When the kid didn’t react, David picked him up and pulled him to his chest, letting him wail into his shirt. He put his face in Max’s hair, trying to hide the fact that he had begun to cry, too.

Gwen’s legs were shaking as she approached the two, sitting in the snow beside them. Her whole body felt like it was trembling, the warmth behind her eyes flooding her every thought. She wrapped her arms around David and Max, both of whom leaned into her.

“I don’t wanna die out here,” Max said weakly, his voice barely above a whisper once again.

The world began to fade out, exhaustion carrying the kid away from the hell he had been trapped in. Before he could fully fall asleep, he heard David quietly speak.

“You won’t. I won’t let you.” He whispered, still crying. “I won’t let go.”


	18. Not Worth A Red Cent — Day Fifteen, Part Two

The rushing of a river woke Max, heavy and loud in his mind. A cold wind whipped past him, ruffling his hair and making him open his eyes, still burning with tears.

They were walking along the top edge of a dam, open and pouring the frigid waters to the river below. They must have traveled fairly far in the time Max had been asleep, because now the sun began to dip down low in the cloudy sky, and nothing around him looked familiar.

He had been carried by David, piggybacked throughout the forest and down diverging paths, no one knowing just how to get home anymore. The river roared beneath them, a new obstacle. A new landmark to take note of, to wonder how far away home was from here. 

“You awake back there?” David asked, voice low as he looked over his shoulder.

“Yeah.” Max muttered quietly. He wished he hadn’t fallen asleep, been able to keep walking with everyone else. He had been trying all this time to prove he could be more than what he was, trying to prove that he wasn’t just a kid from a broken home in New York City.

But underneath it all, that’s all he would ever be. No matter how hard he tried to be something else, for now that’s all he was; a kid. And he would rage and burn out and fall asleep, and no matter how badly he resented what he was, it was all they could expect out of him. 

“How far we walk?” He asked, sleep still staining his voice. 

“Maybe two miles? It’s gonna get dark soon.” David replied. 

Max nodded in response, taking a moment to wake up as he looked at the gray landscape. He couldn’t help but wonder how they hadn’t found this river earlier — it was loud and wide, and no wonder that they had to use the dam to cross it.

Across the river, a small building sat connected to the dam, made out of a gray cement just like the rest of the wall. _ Control room? _ Max asked himself, too exhausted to actually ask. Instead, he simply said that he could walk now, letting David put him down.

The stone felt foreign under his feet. He had grown accustomed to the world bending under his weight, snow and unsturdy wood. His feet fell hard upon the cement, and the unfamiliarity of it was by all means welcome.

The forest on the other side of the dam revealed nothing seeming very important, a small pathway cutting through the woods from the side of the control room. On the opposite side of the control room, a path cut narrowly between the river and a tall and steep hill covered in snow.

David and Gwen walked to the control room, looking through the glass window to the inside. There wasn’t much; a panel with a lot of buttons on it, a set of shelves with a pair of boots and a half empty container of lamp oil, a first aid kit hung on the wall. 

Gwen grabbed the cold metal of the door handle, holding her breath as she pushed it. With a  _ click, _ the door opened, and she sighed with relief. “At least we don’t have to come to breaking and entering just yet.” Her joke fell flat, and the small smile she had managed to muster up faded.

She just remained silent as she began investigating the control room, gathering all the items she could find and throwing them into her backpack. 

“What’s this?” Max asked. He was looking at a pair of doors rusted off their hinges, leading to a small staircase that lead into a dark room. Gwen looked over, pushing one of the doors to et ore light in. As she did, the metal squealed before snapping completely, sending the door into the depths.

“Storage, probably. We could bust out the oil lamp and take a look?” She asked, looking to David. He nodded, taking off his bag and finding it quickly.

The room had to have been fairly large, as the lamp barely touched the darkness that had built up for so long. The air was pitch black, leaving everyone to wade through it like a shallow pond, murky and cold and begging for them to stay.

Though the lamp was able to fend off the dark air, it could not keep David from going too far down the rabbit hole, thinking and falling further and further. It was a creature with a crooked smile and sharpened teeth, dragging itself closer with no pattern to it’s gait. It reached from the darkness, a bitter whisper clawing it’s way to him.

_ Have you not noticed you're at death's doorstep? _

David lifted the lamp, trying to illuminate a set of shelves. There were a few spare cans of food, labels worn out and unreadable. Gwen opened her bag, letting him put the cans in as Max stood close by, looking into the darkness. 

“David,” The kid whispered, standing close to him. “I think there’s something else in here.”

He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, as he lifted the lamp up again, bringing it towards the area Max was looking at. With a few steps forwards, he could see something amber and reflective, sharp like a mirror.

He paused, staring it down for a moment. “Head towards the stairs. Go.” His voice was low and quiet, holding an arm out as if it could keep the creature from coming any closer. 

It stepped forward, silent in the darkness. The only sign it had drawn any closer was the light of the lamp reflecting in it’s eyes.

Gwen and Max made their way to the door quickly and quietly, standing in the light and waiting for David. He backed away from the creature slowly, keeping his gaze locked on it’s eyes.

As it stepped closer, he could see it’s face become illuminated.

Her thick gray fur stood up on her neck, golden eyes glaring at David. With ears laying flat on her head and a deep growl starting in her throat, she revealed a row of sharp teeth, vicious and ready to attack at a moment’s notice.

“Go,” David whispered, ready to run as the she-wolf reared back. “Go!”

 

It was a crack like a gunshot and a tiny yelp.

 

Suddenly, the room below Gwen had gone completely dark. Her heart was pounding, and before she could find David in the dark room she was running away from it to the door.

Max threw the door open ahead of her, looking inside as Gwen made her way out. She skidded to a stop, watching as David rounded the corner and ran for the door. At his heels, the wolf snarled and bit, the glass of the lamp he had thrown having torn the fur on the side of her face. 

Her claws scrapped against the cement floor, teeth catching the leg of David’s jeans and sending him to the floor.

Gwen had frozen, her throat tight as the color flooded from her face. She could have sworn that time had frozen for a moment as the wolf leaped toward him as he whipped around, trying to get the beast off him. He lifted his arm to keep her away from his face and neck, ad she lunged forward, teeth bared and ready to strike.

“No!” Gwen finally gasped, running towards the wolf and taking her bag off her shoulders to swing it at her. The hit was heavy, and the wolf was forced onto the ground.

She was quick to grab David and pull him up, pushing him out the door as the she-wolf stood, making her way back to them. “Come on!” Gwen yelled and pulled the door shut just before the dog could catch her. 

She scratched against the door, growling and barking before she left, satisfied with the space between them. 

Gwen huffed, trying to get in a steady breath as she watched the wolf return to her dark den. A soft  _ thud _ hit the snow, and she turned to see David knelt in it, coughing and trying to breathe. 

“David,” she whispered, making her way over to him. He sat up just so he could lean on the wall of the control station, rosy skin quickly becoming as white as the snow he sat in. It was easy to see that something had gone wrong, the sleeve of his coat torn to shreds as a deep scarlet seeped through the fabric. She knelt in to snow, getting his arm out of his coat to inspect it. 

Deep cuts had broken through his layers of clothing, teeth and claw marks having mangled the skin on the arm he had used to protect himself. The red ran down his arm, thick and cold on his clothes. Gwen looked at it, becoming more and more panicked by the second. 

This was wrong. He shouldn’t have been bleeding so much, shouldn’t look so pale and dazed.

It shouldn’t have been  _ red. _

Gwen touched his arm briefly, and looked at the cold and deep red on her fingertips. Why did it have to be  _ now?  _ Why couldn’t this have happened under any other circumstance? Out of all the places to find this, why did it have to be in the middle of Saskatchewan, slowly freezing to death?

She trembled for a minute, looking up at David to see his pale face. He didn’t shiver or shake, instead just slumping against the wall and taking shallow breaths.

“Gwen!” Max yelled, looking back and forth between her and the path down to the river. “I saw something down here earlier, I think there’s a place we could stay, I’ll be right back.” He spoke quickly, beginning to run down the path.

Gwen jumped to action, grabbing David’s injured arm and holding her hand on the wound tightly. He winced but didn’t complain, his adrenaline having faded and being replaced with a deep exhaustion.

“Come on, we gotta get you out of the cold.” She spoke surely and determined, lifting David out of the snow and letting him lean on her.

The wind had picked up, and the clouds that had been heavy before were beginning to let go, sending warning flurries of snow to the earth. Following Max’s footsteps was slow, a tense few minutes that felt like ages. Before long, the snow revealed Max returning, pulling himself out of a small access to a hollow indent in the hill.

“There aren’t any animals, I checked.” He sighed, winded from running. Gwen nodded in response, pushing David into the small cavern.

It was free from wind, but cold to the core. No place looked comfortable to sleep in, but this would simply have to do for the night. Gwen put David down near the wall of the cave, letting him lean on it and try to breathe.

“Can you make a fire?” Gwen asked Max, who nodded. She turned back to David, helping him get his outer layers off. The blood ran down his arm, thick and heavy and dark, and Gwen looked at the river of red from his cuts.  _ He needs stitches, _ she thought, cursing under her breath. She had no idea how to deal with this without a doctor.

David looked at Gwen, watched the gears turning in her head as she pulled the bandages out of her backpack. His body protested as he tried to stay awake, pained and exhausted and simply hoping to keep the blood pumping through his body.

All he could picture was the bodies of those at the end of the tracks, cold and forgotten, left to rot in the snow. All he could think of was the stone in front of the tracks, the broken metal and hopeless feeling in his chest. 

But as Gwen wrapped the bandage around his arm tightly, he could see the tears forming in her eyes and falling down her face. He could see Max forming a fire in the middle of the small cave, using a lighter to light the small twigs on the center and hoping for it to catch. He could see that just because he couldn’t hope for rescue didn’t mean that he had nothing to hope for at all.

He hadn’t lost the war yet, just a battle. And there were plenty of reasons for him to keep fighting to win.

So through his body’s protest to sigh and sleep, he held on, focusing on breathing. It was really all he could do for now.

“We’re lucky she didn’t hit an artery.” Gwen said quietly, having done all she could at the moment. With the fire started and her body having been pushed to the limit, she found a place next to David on the wall, exhausted and anxious as ever. “You should lay down, get some rest. It should help.”

David nodded quietly, too tired to say anything in response. Gwen didn’t make any remarks as he laid down on her leg, using it as a pillow. Instead, she put a hand on his head, finding comfort in the warmth she felt there.

As Max sat down next to her, clearly tired as well, she put an arm around his shoulder. “Great job, by the way.”

“Thanks.” He said, sullenly but still genuine. His next words were quieter, almost hoping to not get an answer. “We’ll be okay?”

Gwen nodded, looking into the fire before closing her eyes. “We’ll be okay.” She affirmed, quietly. 

David, almost asleep under Gwen’s hand, sighed quietly, letting the pain in his body fade away into exhaustion. Quietly, he promised to himself, that once he woke up he would do everything in his power to win this war.

And if he couldn’t, he would make damned sure that Gwen and Max did.


	19. No One's To Blame, It All Just Went Wrong

_ “After just over two weeks, we finally have update on flight AC4418, the Air Canada plane that crashed somewhere between Regina and Edmonton. The plane had taken off on December 10th from the John F. Kennedy International Airport, bound for Edmonton. Sometime after the four hour mark of the plane ride, the communication systems stopped functioning, and until now it was unknown what happened to the passengers of the aircraft. _

_ “Early this morning, rescue teams located the three crash sites, located near Ponlin Valley deep within the Alwin mountains, far north of where it was headed. Those who answered questions within J.F.K. International said that they had experienced a minor malfunction that was repaired quickly, but they had never imagined that it would become as major as it did. _

_ “We are still unaware of how many lives were lost in the crash, but estimates are at more than a hundred at the moment, and they are only growing. _

_ “Jacob Tremlin, head of the Parks Canada organization, has made a statement regarding the tragedy. ‘Though we have had many teams searching for the wreckage, it’s been hard to make any headway. Not only was the site located in a place we hadn’t considered might be a possibility, but weather complications have made the trip through the small mountain range nearly impossible. The rangers who are recovering those lost in the crash must leave the area before nightfall, as the dark could be incredibly dangerous. We can’t afford to lose more lives to this tragedy.’ _

_ “Despite this, at least one search officer has been lost. His body was found with a single gunshot wound to the head near one of the crash sites. _

_ “More at noon.” _

 

The red haired woman looked at the television, eyes wide and haunted as she watched the blonde there report the news. She had found a comfortable place on the couch for the past week. Though she had been planning on staying in Edmonton with her family for the next week and a half, after the disappearance of her son, she couldn’t bare to spend a holiday without the comfort of home.

It had been just over two weeks since he had fallen off the map, gone without a trace into the snowy wastelands of Saskatchewan. Ever since his flight hadn’t landed, ever since the first articles were posted on the mysterious disappearance of flight AC4418, she couldn’t function quite right.

She pulled her long red hair over her shoulder, running her fingers through the coarse silver streaks in it as the woman began talking about some other tragedy, somewhere else.

_ But they haven’t said anything about David, _ she thought, a sob running through her chest. From the way the woman had spoken, it sounded like they hadn’t found any survivors, but they hadn’t listed any names or called out any numbers, so there had to be hope that he was somewhere away from those who died in the crash. 

She glanced at the clock, an ornate wooden thing with her name carved in cursive on it.  _ Robin, _ it read under the face of the clock.  _ It’s 7:38, Robin. _

The front door squealed as someone entered her home, plastic bags rustling as they were set down in the doorway. A woman peeked into the living room where Robin sat, dark brown curls ruffled from the wind outside. 

“Hey, mom.” She said compassionately. “Sorry I wasn’t here, I just went to get groceries.”

Robin looked over, breathing in deeply and hoping to compose herself. “Amelia, thank goodness. I…” She trailed off, seeming to space out as she stared into the distance before shaking her head, giving up on the sentence before she could start it. 

“You checked the news again?” Amelia asked, watching the woman on the television speak. 

How ironic it was for her to be named after the Amelia Earhart, famous for her disappearance after a plane crash, only for her brother to become victim to it.

“Yeah. They found the crash, Amelia.”

It was quiet for a long moment, and the girl began to wonder if she should begin grieving now to save her some heartache in the future. “But they haven’t found David yet,” She reassured, making her decision. “They would have contacted us. He could still be out there.”

Robin nodded, putting an anxious hand over her mouth. “Right.” She whispered, looking at the clock again.  _ Robin, _ it read.  _ It’s 7:44, Robin. _ “They said they would update at noon.”

“Alright. For now, let’s just get some food. Taylor’s probably still talking with the Parks people upstairs, I’ll get her down here.” She replied, wrapping an arm around her mother’s shoulder.

Though they had lost the same person, they knew it was impossible for them to fully comprehend each other’s grief. Both of them, despite being mother and daughter, had different patterns, different ways of coping. 

“How about scrambled eggs and bacon? Some breakfast staples?” Amelia offered, a small smile on her face.

Robin nodded, sighing before standing up. She glanced at the clock again, but it’s words were nothing new.  _ It’s 7:46, Robin. _

 

Time had slowed to a crawl as everyone went through their day, waiting for noon to hit so they could check the news again. They had kept the volume on just in case any sudden developments formed, but so far, nothing surprising had happened.

After breakfast, Taylor was back on the phone with people from Parks Canada, trying to get any information she could.

“I’m sorry ma’am, we’re not allowed to share anything with the press just yet-” The man on the end of the line repeated, making the woman put her head in her hands and sigh. Though her auburn curls were usually kept in a ponytail, the stress had gotten to her enough that she had to pull it down just to run her hands through it and ground her. 

“I understand, but I’m not  _ with _ the press, sir. I’m the sister of David Blackwell, he was one of the passengers on the flight-”

“Like I said before, we can’t share any details about what we’ve found just yet. I can redirect your call to-”

“Please, don’t redirect my call, you’re the fourth person I’ve been sent to. I just want to know if you’ve found any sort of identification on David Blackwell, that’s all.” 

The man on the line sighed, muting his line for a moment. When he returned, he spoke quieter and calmer. “We found some of his luggage, saw his name on a receipt. That’s all we’ve found on him so far.”

Taylor sighed, thinking for a moment. “Okay. Okay, thank you. If you find anything else, could you please call me back?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you. Bye.” Taylor sighed the words, keeping her head in her hands for a moment. A few stray tears fell from her face, and for the first time in a long time, she allowed them to.

But before she could breakdown at the desk in her room, she felt the buzz of her phone. She breathed deeply, holding it for a minute, then sighing as she picked up the phone, as composed as she could be. “Hello?”

 

Robin and Amelia stared at the television at the clock struck noon, Amelia laying in her mother’s lap like she was a small child again. The woman on the T.V. began to speak.

_ “As the relief teams have searched the area surrounding the crash sites, they have have accounted for nearly every person on the flight. The total death count is currently at 157, making this the deadliest plane crash in recent American and Canadian history. _

_ “All people on the plane excepting three individuals have been found, deceased. The three who remain unfound are Gwendolyn Martinez, David Blackwell, and Maxwell Arya.  _

_ “Though the rescue parties searching the area had predicted that no one could have survived the crash, it appears that these three may have made it. The teams have reported finding an abandoned firewatch station near a small lake in the midst of the crash sites, and it seems to have been used as shelter for a time. One search officer described the station as being ‘lived-in’, finding fresh ashes in the furnace and notebooks that had been recently used for drawings. _

_ “While images have been nearly impossible to send to people in the main offices of Parks Canada, a few images have been able to make their way there. We have been given permission to show them here.” _

The images appeared on the screen as the woman gave them context. One appeared of a large and empty valley with large pieces of metal, a small building off to the side near the forests. Another faded in, showing the frozen over lake in the center of a few buildings.

The last photo revealed a message carved into a tree, an arrow pointing down a long and straight pathway. It had been cut in with an axe, the messy writing reading a short message: 

_ 3 alive _

_ David  _

_ Gwen _

_ Max _

 

A man, tall and just a bit heavy with muscle, made his way into the dining room where his wife sat. His warm brown skin had grown just a little paler over the last few weeks, anxiety making his complexion lose saturation. Regardless, he was good at working under pressure, managing to maintain his dark red curly hair and the short and scruffy beard on his chin.

His wife, on the other hand, had not managed nearly as well. Depression ran in her side of the family, and the loss of her daughter had nearly crippled her. Though she normally pulled her hair into a sleek and straightened ponytail, she had lost the energy to even do that, letting it curl down her back. In her hand, she held a wine glass, filled with a dark and saturated crimson.

“Camila,  _ mi amor, _ ” The man said, concerned as he watched her sip her glass. “Are you okay?”

Camila nodded, not looking over to her husband. “This is not a, uh… Pattern. It’s just a hard day.” She said. Though she had moved to the United States when she was young, Spanish was still her first language, and she struggled to translate at times. “You?”

“I’m good. They talked about her plane on the news.” He said, offering a hopeful smile. Camila didn’t respond the way he had hoped, no spark of hope in her eyes or faithful smile. Instead, she sighed, looking into her glass.

“Matías…” She sighed, but he interrupted. 

“It’s good news, I promise.”

“Matías,  _ please. _ I can not do this again.” Camila whimpered, shaking her head. “I  _ can’t. _ ”

The loss of her first daughter, though it was dawning on a decade ago now, still affected her. She couldn’t have imagined losing another one of her children, and yet… 

Matías put his arms around his wife, letting her lean into him. “I can not do this again, not after Isabella, I can’t hope that she’s out there. I can’t be hurt like this again.” Camila said quietly, beginning to cry.

“ _ Mi amor… _ ” Matías said quietly, rubbing her back.

“I just wish to grieve in peace. Just want to mourn our daughters.” 

Matías nodded as she cried quietly, waiting for her to steady her breathing to speak again. More than anything, he wished he could do something to help her, but he could on be there to hold when things got bad. He could not change her troubled past, nor could he bring his daughters back for her. All he could do was hold on to her, plant her favorite flowers in the garden and buy her new books and listen to her gush about them when she finished them. All he could do was make sure the bird feeders were filled with the right kind of seed so that they would attract her favorites, mourning doves and white-crowned pigeons.

All he could do was hope that it was enough to keep her smiling through all the tragedy that had followed her.

When she had finally steadied her breathing, he spoke again. “Can I show you what they showed on the news?” He asked quietly.

Camila had her eyes closed thinking for a second before reaching for her glass and taking a small sip. “Okay. What… Is it?” She hesitated.

Matías pulled out his phone, loading a picture that he had taken of the television, the tree with the message carved into it a blurry and snow-covered haze.

She looked at the message, scanning it back and forth, back and forth. “She’s out there,” Matías said, choking up a bit. “She’s out there, and she has other people with her.”

Camila looked up at him, her lavender eyes filled to the brim with tears. “She’s okay?” She asked, sounding small and so, so hopeful.

“She’s okay.”

 

_ “Though the message seemed recent, the rescue parties searching for the survivors have been forced to pull back as a blizzard has begun to roll in. Despite this, those in charge with to reiterate that they do not plan on giving up the search for the three survivors of the crash. _

_ “Fortunately, with the valley being nearly completely surrounded by rocky cliffs and tall mountains, there aren’t many places for them to go. Rescue teams believe that it’s likely they were forced to move away from the spot they had been staying in order to find food. _

_ “In honor of the 157 lives lost to this crash, we’d like to have a moment of silence. _

 

_ “Thank you very much, and goodnight.” _

 

A young girl sat in her room, at a small desk with only a lamp light on to illuminate her book. Her copper skin was lit up orange by the light, and her black hair pulled over her shoulder ruffled from her running her hands through it.

Though she had been captivated by the description of the book in front of her, she struggled to focus on it long enough to read past the first chapter. Once again, she ran hand fingers through her hair, finding the softness of it comforting in her dark room.

With a sigh, she stood up, approaching her windows to let the morning light in through the blinds. She had always liked getting up early to relax in her quiet home.

But it was never very long before she could hear the clatter of pans in the kitchen downstairs, the smell of food drifting into her room and beckoning her downstairs.

When she walked in, she could see her father cooking, the smell of french toast heavy in the air. “Hey, you’re up early.” He said, looking over his shoulder. They didn’t resemble each other in the slightest, him being white and much more muscular than her. Their routines were still new in their mind; the girl was new to the home, and her recent adoption had created something new and unfamiliar to her.

“Yeah, I tried to read a bit. Can’t focus, though.”

“Is it because of Max?” He asked, and the girl nodded.

A few steps sounded out, the clicking of heels against the hallway floor behind the girl. Her mother, dressed in her normal pinstripe suit for her first day of work after the holiday. “Morning, Casie.” She said. The nickname had come out of her real name, Acacia, which had been shortened to Cacia and then down to Casie. Though she preferred her real name, Acacia wouldn’t complain. She had never been given a nickname before, and she liked the fondness in her mother’s voice when she said it.

“You guys kept the news on when I went to bed, right?” She was desperate to know that her friend was okay after his flight had disappeared, and her parents were more than happy to keep updated for her.

Her mother nodded, seeming a little sullen. “They haven’t found him yet, unfortunately. They had to leave before they could search very far since a blizzard rolled in.” She explained.

Acacia shrunk down in her seat, disappointed. She had met Max in a foster home, and though he eventually was moved to a different place they stayed in the same school. She was worried sick about him before the trip, wondering how he would make it through the week in Edmonton alone with his foster family.

“What about his parents?” She asked quietly, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

“Everyone other than him and two other people have been found. None of them made it.” Acacia’s mother explained, kneeling down to the kid’s height. She looked at the floor, trying to hold back tears for a moment. Her mother opened her arms, offering a hug as she spoke. “I’m sorry.”

Her father joined, offering comfort to the girl. “The good news is that he’s with two other people, and the search teams are so close to finding them. We told the Parks people to keep in touch with us, and tell us when they find him.”

Acacia thought about it for a moment, then nodded before her parents returned to their routine. “What are they doing with his foster parents?” 

“Probably holding a service sometime soon. Why do you ask?” Her mother said.

Acacia considered it for a moment. She had never been to a funeral, and she hadn’t known them well. But she knew the part they played in Max’s life, and maybe that was just enough for her to watch them leave it. 

“Can I go?”

 

She wore a black dress and long black scarf, touching the soft wool on the inside of it as they lowered the coffins. Not many people had arrived — two old couples, a younger and more stoic woman, and a boy who looked to be a young adult.

Acacia’s parents stood behind her, dressed in their own black outfits despite not needing to mourn at all. The youngest man approached them after everything had been said, hands in his pockets. His eyes were a pale color that Acacia couldn’t see, and his hair a bit darker, shaved on the sides with the rest pulled back. A small beard had begun to take shape on the end of his chin, and the end of a tattoo peeked from the collar of his coat. 

“Hey,” He started casually. “I’m real sorry to bother, I just noticed you guys and I wanted to ask, how did you know them?”

Acacia’s father spoke. “We actually haven’t met them. They were the foster parents of Acacia’s friend, and she wanted to come.”

The man nodded, looked down at the kid, and ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, okay. I’m Griffin. I was their son.” He introduced himself, holding out a hand to formally greet Acacia and her parents. 

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Acacia’s mother sympathized. Griffin nodded in response, not quite sure how to respond. 

“I’m sorry for yours as well. I’m guessing the kid was on the plane with them?”

“But he’s still out there.” Acacia said before her parents could speak. “You saw the thing they put in the tree, right? His name is Max, and once they find him he’s gonna come back and everything’ll be normal again.” She sounded sure of herself, but the tears that began to form in the corners of her eyes betrayed her confidence. 

Griffin sat down on the cold ground in front of Acacia. He knew the truth of the matter, knew that there was a real possibility that the kid wouldn’t return. He knew that even if he did make it back in one piece, the fate of a foster kid after all of that wasn’t the brightest. 

But he couldn’t help but admire the hopeful look in the girl’s tearful eyes. 

“Next time you see him, make sure he knows he’s been brave as hell out there.” Griffin said with a smile before standing up. 

Acacia smiled back, hopes high as she said her goodbyes. 

 

As the night grew cold and dark, she looked outside of her window, hoping that the snow falling outside her window wasn’t the same that Max was facing. 

Hoping that soon, winter would release its grip on the mountains, finally letting her friend come home. 


	20. If Your Needle Is There, You Can Take My Blood — Day Sixteen

“Psst,” A quiet voice whispered to Gwen, waking her up slowly. “Hey. Wake up.” It came again, accompanied by a prodding of her shoulder.

Gwen groaned, blinking open her eyes. They still burned from her crying yesterday, and the new color of the fire disoriented her. David still laid on her leg, barely having shifted in his sleep.

Her heart pounded for a moment as she reached for his shoulder, carefully shaking him. The possibility that what she had done to stop the bleeding hadn’t been enough made her cold to the bone.

He stirred, but Gwen didn’t bother making him get up, figuring he needed the rest.

“Hey.” Max whispered once again, poking her. “Food.”

He held out a can of peaches, warm and partially empty. Gwen reached for it, looking at it for a moment and looking confused.

“Jesus.” Max sighed, rolling his eyes. “I woke up and heated up some food. I ate before getting you up, so treat yourself.” 

Gwen nodded, looking into the can at the orange-yellow color of the fruit in the fire light. It felt so new, so unfamiliar, and still she wondered how she hadn’t noticed it sooner.

The red scarf.

The pink sky.

The orange light of the fire as it illuminated her hand, scribbling in her notebook.

It had been there, and yet she hadn’t even noticed it. Had the stress been that bad? Had it really pushed her into completely forgetting about the dream she had been holding onto before everything that had led her here?

She supposed it still was, the smell of sugar making her stomach growl before she started eating, sore and cold and so, so tired.

 

David still seemed disoriented when he woke up, and was still pale as a sheet of paper. Gwen asked what he was feeling that was out of normal, and he was clearly downplaying his symptoms, saying that his wound still hurt bad but it was nothing he couldn’t deal with, and that’s all.  _ Everything is fine, _ he reassured, a big smile on his face.

Gwen didn’t believe him for a second.

He never admitted to the numbness in his fingers that wasn’t fixed by warming them, nor to how uncoordinated he felt with his movements.

Though they didn’t want to leave the small cave they had sheltered in, it wasn’t livable — the stone was cold no matter how hard they tried to stay warm, and with that wolf so nearby they couldn’t feel safe. Leaving was hard, but they didn’t have much of a choice.

The path near the control station was thin and hard to follow with so much snow on the ground. They knew it was their best chance of finding a way to any sort of civilization that hadn’t been long abandoned, so they used the faded markings left on trees to follow the path.

Eventually, they found a broken signpost, bent and splintered at the end of the path. The engraving on it was traced with snow and cracked, reading  _ ‘Robert Frost Trail’ _ and marked with an orange square. 

“So that’s the path,” Gwen mumbled quietly to herself. “Then what’s this?” She found herself standing in the midst of a wide path, winding around the forest and out of view.

“It’s a road.” Max said, having dug through the snow with his sneaker to the cement underneath. He looked at the gray road, then up to Gwen, and for a moment even he seemed hopeful.

“Which way do we go?” Gwen asked, and David hummed for a moment. He backed up, looking at the sky and muttering to himself for a moment.

“We should probably head south, right?” He asked. 

If there had been a doubt about his abandonment of the idea of rescue, it was gone now. The only way they were getting out of here, he’d realized, was walking home.

Gwen nodded, and David looked at the sky again before pointing in a direction.

“This way, then.” When he turned to look down the path, there was nothing immediately interesting, and the heavy snow on the path was disheartening to say the least.

But he still smiled widely, putting an arm around Gwen’s shoulders and happily beginning to march as he beamed. “To civilization!” He said cheerily, and Gwen laughed a small bit, putting a hand on his back and smiling as Max joined them.

“How do you do that? You nearly bled out last night, and now you’re smiling and laughing.”

David shrugged, keeping his optimistic grin strong. “I dunno,” he replied, being thankful that his false conviction had made way for some genuine and contagious confidence. “I guess it’s just in my blood.”

 

The hope of going home had become a far away fantasy over the past two days, but that didn’t stop the group from daydreaming about what they’d do if they got there.

“When I get home, I’m gonna go to the animal shelter and pet all of the friendly cats.” Gwen said, eyes closed as she marched along the road. Her legs ached, and she wanted nothing more than to sit down and rest, but there had been no place to stop on the road.

“When  _ I _ get home, I’m going to sit in front of the heater with a good book and some hot tea.” David sighed, leaning on Gwen and trying to hide his dizziness.

“When I get home, I’m goin’ to McDonalds.” Max said simply.

“ _ God, _ I would kill for a Big Mac right now.”

“There’s this place right by my apartment that makes the  _ best _ wraps, I can’t wait to get one.” David dreamed, ignoring the fact that by the time he got back he might not even have an apartment. His landlord wanted the rent paid on the 27th of each month for some odd reason, and at this rate he’d get evicted without even having gone back.

“Or  _ coffee? _ ” Gwen exclaimed. “I miss my morning coffees so much.”

Max sighed in silent agreement, and even David, who rarely drank coffee, wished he could have a cup of it.

There was a long pause in the conversation, everyone dreaming of home and how they just might be able to pretend that this hadn’t ever happened.

“When I get home,” David started quietly. “I’m going to find you guys, and we’ll all get an apartment and go back to our normal lives together. We’ll be like a little family.”

Gwen breathed in deeply, imagining it. Imagining that it could be as simple as that, as easy as a small apartment with some tacky cabinets and maybe even some generic home decorations, or a flower bed and bird feeders like at her parents house. She silently dreamed about being able to live a normal life, being able to pretend that she could ever be normal again.

“I’d like that.” She said quietly, feeling a bit of heat rush to her cheeks. “I’d like that a lot.”

“House.”

“Getting a house would be a great idea, Max! And we could have a backyard and maybe a pet-”

“No, there’s a house over there!” He exclaimed, breaking into a sprint. Gwen looked over, stunned by the words.

In the distance, there was a cabin, one that didn’t look completely forgotten. It stood short but proud, a snow covered roof and a frosted over window.

David couldn’t exactly run in the state he was in, but he still jumped to attention, making his way over as fast as he could with the help of Gwen. When they got close enough, Gwen leaped over to the door, pounding on it.

“Hello?” She called out loudly. “Anyone there? Hello?!”

The world went completely and utterly silent.

Gwen sighed, putting her forehead on the door in disappointment before trying the door. “Locked,” She hissed and thumped her head against the door. To be truthful, she wasn’t expecting an answer, but it still hurt to not get one.

“I say we kick it in.” Max offered immediately. “It’s not breaking and entering if it’s an emergency, right?” He added with a snarky smile.

Gwen laughed, standing up straight and moving to look at the windows. “‘Officer, what do you mean I’m being arrested? It was emergency!’” She laughed, peering through the glass. 

She wouldn’t even consider breaking in if David wasn’t there. Should any police officer find Max and herself there alone in a broken-into house… 

She didn’t even want to think about it.

She tested the windows, trying to see if they would open, but they had been frozen shut. Again, she approached the door. “Alright, stay back.” She warned, getting ready to try to kick the lock in.

Gwen lined herself up, and with the little strength she had held onto through the tundra, she slammed her heel into the space beside the doorknob.

The wood where the door met the wall splintered and split as it was thrown open. Gwen stumbled back a bit, but after stabilizing herself, she looked at her work and cheered. 

“Oh, sweet!” Max cheered.

“That was amazing! Where did you learn how to do that?” David asked, astonished.

Gwen smiled as she walked into the house. “Saw something online about how you should always kick the spot next to the lock. Didn’t think I’d ever actually need to know it!” She shrugged. “Now how about we find if this place has any sort of heater?”

 

For once, it seemed like their luck was beginning to turn around.

After a little digging around in the back of the house, Gwen found a generator, and wasn’t at all hesitant to start it up. It coughed and sputtered as it woke, making all the lights in the house blink on. She could hear a distant cheer from the living room they had made their base in, Max having settled in on the couch and David starting a fire in the fireplace that was there.

“You find anything in the way of food?” Gwen called from her spot, looking in rooms to see if there was anything they could use.

“Some rotten stuff in the fridge, that’s about it. And a bottle of Cabernet.” David replied.

Gwen turned the handle to faucet on in the bathroom, just hearing it squeak.  _ Probably frozen, _ she concluded, sighing. “Well, we still have some food. You find anything in the way of a phone?”

“Someone cut the cord to the home phone.” Max answered.

“And I looked for a charger for my phone, but I couldn’t find anything.” David had kept his battered phone, but with the glass of the screen so shattered and the slight bend in it’s metal, it probably wouldn’t work if he plugged it in regardless.

“Dammit,” Gwen cursed as she walked back into the living room. “Well, at least we can just sit and relax for the rest of the day.” She decided, finding a place in front of the fireplace next to David as she began taking off her coats.

Behind her, Max had already taken a blanket and wrapped it around himself, scribbling in a small book. As David made himself comfortable, he looked over, noticing the kid drawing.

“What’re you doin’ over there?” He asked casually.

“Found a mad-libs book while I was rummaging around the kitchen.”

“Oh, I loved those when I was a kid! Can I do it with you?” David asked enthusiastically.

“Sure.” Max said with a shrug.

“I’ll join in too,” Gwen said, laying down in front of the fireplace.

“Alright. David, noun.” Max said, readying his pencil.

 

The rest of the day was filled with laughter and relief from the stresses of the snow filled world outside of their small cabin. Gwen proved herself to be a great narrator for the mad-libs pages that she, Max, and David all filled out, and just being able to sit down on an old rug and laugh in front of the fire was something she had needed for longer than she had even considered.

Before long, they were all growing hungry as the sky darkened, and David offered to make food. They continued playing the game as they cooked, but as it continued, new words were being thrown in to freshen up the mix.

"Plural noun." Max said.

"Dicks." Gwen offered, glad to get a small laugh out of the kid from her answer.

"Verb."

"Um... Imprison." She decided.

"Noun again."

"Liquid oxygen."

Max snickered. "'Nother noun?"

"How about... Bat-shit crazy Polish woman?" 

Max smiled as he wrote it in. "Verb?"

"I know!" David offered up, walking into the living room with a few ceramic bowls he found in the cabinets  to put the warmed fruit into. "How about slap?" They bounced words back and forth as they ate, glad to see the end result they came up with. 

After a while, Max tried to pass it back to Gwen. "You got an adjective?" He asked. After getting no response, he tilted his head, looking over to her. "Hello?"

David looked over, seeing her calmly asleep facing the fire. "I think that's our cue to head to bed." He said with a small smile, picking up her empty bowl and putting it next to their bags.

Max nodded in response. "You gonna try to find the bed in this place?" He asked, and the adult shook his head.

"I'm probably gonna take the recliner. I'd rather be in the same room as you guys." He said, grabbing two of the folded blankets over the chair. One he left in the spot he'd decided to sleep in, and the other he threw over Gwen.

When the lights were turned off, David threw himself into the recliner, finding the spot much comfier than last night's. The blanket over him may have been an itchy wool, and he may have been able to feel the metal inside of the ugly chair he leaned back in, but it was still something he did his best to be grateful for.

"Hey, David?" Max started, quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I..." He trailed off, trying to swallow his pride. "I'm sorry about all the stuff I said the other day. Back at the tracks."

David looked over to him, and could see the barely lit image of him sitting up on the couch. He had turned to look at the fire, and the orange light illuminated his skin and vibrant blue-green eyes.

"Don't be sorry." He replied. "You were right."

Max stayed silent, but his face shifted, eyebrows furrowing as he frowned with confusion. 

"Our position here is pretty bad, sure, and I know you believe that even going home won't fix this. But that doesn't mean I can stop trying. You and Gwen aren't very optimistic people by nature, and there's nothing wrong with that. I've just gotta make up the extra mile and find some good where you guys haven't." He explained, looking into the fire. "How else are we going to survive this?"

Max was still quiet for a long moment, just considering David's words as the fire shifted in the air around them, bending with the sound of wind. Another winter storm had blown in, and by the time they woke up, their tracks would once again be buried by the snow.

"Do you still think rescue is coming for us?" He asked quietly.

"You should go to bed, Max-"

"Do you?" He pressed.

David considered his answer for a long time, the quiet leaving a heavy static in between them.

"No. But I do believe that you're going to make it out of here."

Max stayed in his position, pausing. "Alright. I'm goin' to sleep."

"See you in the morning."

"Good night." 


	21. Hold On To Me — Day Seventeen, Part One

There are some mornings that you can think when you wake,  _ everything is going to be okay. _ Some days, you can open your eyes slowly, let the world welcome you in peacefully. In a world so thick with violence and fear, the days where you can greet the world with a slow smile and a breath of fresh air are something to be welcomed. The best mornings are the ones where you can open your eyes and feel for just a moment that the world you are in is one that wishes to take care of you.

This, however, was not one of those mornings.

In an instant, David was upright, a loud  _ crack _ and the sound of broken glass falling to ground sending him into high alert. He had no idea what had happened, only knew that Gwen was screaming and pressed herself into the wall next to fireplace, glass shards scattering by her feet.

“What the fuck was that?!” Max yelled, fists raised by his face as he looked around, trying to find the threat.

David opened his mouth to respond, but was quickly cut off. Another loud  _ crack _ sounded out throughout the air, a bullet digging it’s way into the ceiling through the broken window and making Gwen scream once again.

“Max! Get over here!” David yelled, and grabbed the kid to carry over to where Gwen had tried to hide herself. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, letting her grip onto his shirt and bury her face into the fabric as another shot cut through the air.

Then, it went silent.

Max beside him had gone still as a stone, gaze locked onto the window where the bullets had come from. Gwen hung onto David’s shirt and pulled her legs closer to her, curling into herself as she began to hyperventilate.

After enough silence to think that the threat was gone, David pulled Gwen’s face up, trying to get her to look at him. “Hey, hey, come on, look at me.” He said quietly, and her eyes cracked open, his image a blur of red and green in her tear-filled eyes.

“I- I-” She stammered, trying to speak through the panic but her body refused to obey. She felt her chest beginning to cave in on itself, hands shaking and numb as she tried to think anything coherent.

“It’s okay,” David whispered, pulling her in and letting her sob into his chest. “We’re gonna be okay.” 

One moment she had been dreaming, and the next she felt like her whole world was about to snap in around her like a rat trap. All of a sudden, she was being swallowed whole by a world that had been out to get her this whole time.

“Hey, can you try and breathe for me? Just try and take a deep breath, we’re gonna be okay, I promise.” David reassured, running a hand over her hair in an attempt to soothe her.

Quietly, Max stood up, approaching the window with caution. He pressed an ear to wall, trying to hear anything out of the normal: footsteps, the rustle of dead foliage, even another click of a gun.

_ “Damned dogs,” _ He heard someone mutter, beginning to walk away.

Max only caught sight of his heavily layered silhouette before he ducked down, hoping not to get seen by the armed man.

After a few more moments, David trying to bring Gwen down from her anxiety attack behind him, he peeked out the window once again. There, in the midst of the road among a shuffle of footprints, laid a wolf, completely still as the wind whipped around it. Dark gray stains on the snow surrounded it, and it was easy to tell that the wolf was dead.

He looked over at Gwen again, who was struggling to take in a deep breath. After a moment of breathing in, holding, breathing out in the quiet, she let out a loud sob.

“What the  _ fuck _ was that?” She sobbed, bringing her hands to her face. “What the hell is happening?!” 

David held her once again, quietly shushing her. “Max, could you grab one of the water bottles I left by the couch?” He asked quietly.

He silently nodded, grabbing one of the bottles and handing it to David quickly. As he convinced Gwen to drink a bit of water in small sips, Max settled back down next to fireplace, looking at the shards of window glass that laid in the floor.

It had been an accident, but one that had very nearly hurt Gwen.

It was another ten minutes before she was able to talk without stuttering, and another ten after that before she stopped crying. While she was still being calmed down, Max quietly noted that they had to get moving as soon as they could, but David had absolutely refused to leave Gwen’s side. The kid quietly and slowly threw things in backpacks, completely ignoring David when he said he could relax.

Gwen leaned on David’s shoulder, enjoying the comfort she found in his arm being wrapped around her. As she mentally prepared herself to face the day, she closed her eyes, letting the burning of tears there fade away. “Thank you,” she whispered, and David turned to put his lips against the top of her head.

“I’m always here for you.” He said just as quietly, looking at her dark auburn curls and admiring the shade of them. “Do you feel like you can start getting ready to go? Or do you need to relax for a bit longer?”

Gwen shook her head. “I’m okay. Thank you.” She moved to stand up, her legs still feeling weak from tension and her injuries, still sore from everything else. 

As much as they wished they could stay, no one had to say anything to know they had to leave. In an instant, this place was no longer safe, stained with terror and torn at the edges, letting the fog of fear bleed into the surrounding area.

“Did you see what happened?” David asked Max, having noticed him leave to investigate.

“Kind of.” He replied. “It was the wolf from yesterday, I think. She attacked some guy out there, and he missed a few shots. She’s… Still out there.” Max slung a backpack over his shoulder, looking out the broken window at the dead wolf once again.

David just nodded, beginning to help gather things as well.

 

It wasn’t long before everyone was ready to go. Everyone wanted to leave the tainted area as fast as they could, making for a quick start to their journey. But when the got outside and looked at the hills on the road they were preparing to follow, they collectively sighed with exhaustion.

“This is gonna suck.” Gwen said bitterly, and David tried to find a positive spin to put on the situation.

“What if we…” He started, but trailed off when his plan failed to be plausible. Instead, he sighed and hunched his shoulders. “It’s gonna be a long day,” he whispered.

But Max beside him had already begun scheming. “Wait here for a sec, I got an idea.” He said before going back inside the house.

The adults were curious, but did ask they were told. When Max returned, he was holding two metal trash can lids and the removed cover of a toilet seat.

“We can sled down hills. We’ll still have to walk up them, but it’ll make the trip a bit easier.” He said, handing the trash can lids to David and Gwen.

“That’s a great idea, Max!” David praised, a wide smile on his face and a bit of pride in his chest. Even Gwen smiled at the idea — she hadn’t been sledding since she was a kid, and even then it hadn’t been fantastic. She and her sister had been on the same sled, and they hit a tree head on, leaving her sister in the front with a small scar on her forehead. For a while, it was the only way most people could tell them apart.

“Let’s do this!” David cheered as he sat down on his trash lid, pushing himself down the hill and cheering as he went down. Max followed, instead standing on his sled and and using it like a surfboard.

Gwen watched, knowing what was going to happen and just enjoying it. As the kid slowed down, he lost his balance, landing in the snow ahead of the white plastic lid. David jumped to help him up, worried about what she knew would be something Max would laugh about.

As he pulled himself out of the snow, Gwen laughed, thinking for a moment.  _ Thank God I got stuck with these two assholes. _

“You coming down or what?” Max yelled up, wiping to snow off of him.

“Yep, I’ll be right down.” She called back, sighing with relief and for the first time in a long time, hoping that everything really would be okay.

 

As Max charged ahead, surfing down the snowy slopes whenever he could, Gwen and David took their time to catch up. David was still a bit lethargic from how much blood he had lost from his wolf bite, and Gwen wanted to be there if it began to get to him again.

They stood at the bottom of a snowy hill, Max waiting at the top of the one ahead of them for them to catch up.

“Hey, so… About the things I said yesterday?” David started. “About getting us all back together, getting an apartment and making things okay.”

Gwen looked at him, tilting her head. “What about it?” She asked.

“Well, I just thought I should tell you, I… I want you to know, I mean it. If it’s something you want to do, of course!” He backpedalled. “I mean, I don’t even know if you have someone at home waiting for you, or…”

She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. It’s just me and my roommate at home, anyways.” 

“You never told me about them!” David said cheerfully.

“Her name’s Wynslow, she’s this short southern girl that dyed her hair pink. She was actually the one who convinced me to write my book.” She explained. “I wonder how she’s holding up.” She thought aloud.

David paused, watching Max sled down the hill as they began to reach the top of it. “She sounds really nice!” He beamed.

“What about you?” Gwen asked, and at his confused expression, continued. “You have anyone at home?”

David shook his head. “No, it’s just me. Sometimes my oldest sister will drop by whenever she’s around, but she does a lot of travelling.” He paused, thinking about daily life. “School’s probably gonna be back in session soon…” He said quietly, wondering who would be taking over his classroom until he got back. Wondering if he would make it back at all.

He disregarded the thought, instead concentrating on Gwen as she replied. “You even missing work at this point?” She asked, getting ready to slide down the hill.

“Oh, I’ve been missing it for ages! It was so fun to teach the kids, and they’re all so funny. I had to take a week off before the holiday break to get to the city to meet up with family, and leaving my routine threw me off badly. I hope that everything’s been okay with them.”

“Do you… Do you think they know about the crash?” Gwen asked, quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think people are talking about it back home? There were a lot of people on the plane, has it been a big deal? Do you think they told your class what happened?”

The question left David confused as his sled skidded to a stop at the bottom of the hill. It was not nearly as forward as the hypothetical posed to him, a different question going unsaid.  _ How many people are mourning us when we’re still here? _

But for the moment, he offered a smile. “Well, I like to think that they have faith that I’m coming back.” He said optimistically.

“Guys?” Max called from the top of the hill. Gwen and David looked up at him, looking at his wide-eyed expression. “You have to get up here.”

They looked at each other for a moment before Gwen offered a hand to David, helping him stand before they raced up the hill.

They reached the crest of the hill, and all they could do was stare.

Before them, a few rows of houses stood by each other, some with small snow-covered yards and porches. Streetlights stood tall on the sides of the roads, iced over but still a sign that screamed  _ you are not completely alone. _ Hell, there was even a gas station on the far end of the area, lights dark and windows frosted.

“Holy shit.” Gwen sighed, gawking at the sight.

“It’s a town.”


	22. You’ll Find Me Burning Bridges — Day Seventeen, Part Two

There were no people to inhabit it for now. It was almost as abandoned as every other place they had sheltered thus far, cold and snowy but still a sign that they could make it.

For a moment, the silence was strong and hopeful. It was broken by a cheer from David as he jumped up, pumping his fist in the air and absolutely beaming. Max joined him, watching as David grabbed Gwen in his arms and span around in a circle before he sled down the hill to town quickly.

In a sudden movement, David put his hands in Gwen’s cheeks and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss ended as quickly as it had started, not at all gentle but filled with joy.

David didn’t even have the time to process what he had done, grabbing Gwen’s hand in his and racing down the hill with her, finally finding a place that would welcome them all in.

 

The town was as empty as they ever could have imagined, especially for a place that seemed like it once held so many people. The houses were all dark, all locked, all holding memories of family and friends and boring jobs that people swore they would leave behind.

In a way, David supposed they had. 

As he approached another door, gingerly knocking on it, he listened for the sound of footsteps from inside. The sound of anyone who had decided to stay for the winter, knowing that no plow trucks would come to clear their streets and that the only groceries they may get would be at the abandoned gas station across town.

But no one came to answer David’s knock, knowing better.

There were so many ghosts here.

David reached for the door handle, trying it only to feel it stick and refuse to move.

“Why isn’t anyone here? This is a town, right?” Max asked.

“It’s probably a logging town. They come here during warmer weather to cut down trees, probably move down south during the winter.” David explained. “But that’s not a bad thing! There’s that gas station there, and if we’re lucky they’ll have a phone in there. Plus, there’s bound to be a house with food somewhere around here!”

“It’s starting to get dark.” Gwen noted. “First house we find that’s unlocked, we should stop.”

Everyone else murmured their agreement, moving to check the other doors to houses.

 

By the time they found a door that clicked open, the sun had nearly fully set, and the dreadful cold of night was beginning to settle in. The place was small and on the very edge of town, windows revealing nothing but the endless trees that surrounded them. Still, it had a fireplace and a bed, and that was enough for them.

As badly as they wished they could just start a fire and fall asleep, there was still anxiety thick in the air from the events of that morning, making them wander the house and scavenge.

“Holy shit, guys!” Gwen called out. “There’s a ton of food here!”

“Aw, sweet!” Max called back, coming into the kitchen. “What do we got?”

“Mac n’ cheese, ramen noodles, some dried fruit, chocolate…” Gwen listed, taking out everything that seemed non-perishable. “There are some cans of vegetables on this shelf,” she reached above her head, pulling everything out.

“This is perfect!” David called out from the other side of the house, finding the bedroom. “But isn’t this stealing? I feel a little bad.”

“I don’t!” Max replied as he grabbed a bag of dried fruit, glad to see that it hadn’t gone bad. He made his way over to the fireplace, taking the time relax in front of the pale fire light.

“I mean, we need it more than they do right now. It’s not like we haven’t done it before now.” She reasoned. “Did you check to see if the water’s running?”

“Not yet,” David replied, and Gwen turned to the kitchen sink.

She had expected the empty squeal of metal against metal when she turned the faucet on, but instead, she was greeted with a far away rumble. After a moment, the water sputtered out of the faucet, running through frozen pipes and miraculously making it’s way to the house. “Holy shit!” Gwen gasped, putting her hand under the cold water for a second. “We have water!”

Max and David cheered from elsewhere in the house, and Gwen smiled.

When she joined them in the living room, she brought a second bag of dried fruit and mugs filled with water for everyone, glad to finally get a chance to relax. It was a wonderful change of pace from the last few days, to be able to know what their next meal would be, to be able to drink water that hadn’t been melted down from snow and to just breathe for a moment.

Max had sat down with his new book, picking at the dried strawberries next to him as he read next to the fire. As Gwen sat down, she looked at the hand that held his book open, looking at the red spots that had begun to stain his skin.

“Hey, can I see your hand for a sec?” Gwen asked him, and he handed it over with a confused look on his face.

They were darker than the rest of his skin, starting in a large valley of red and purple on his wrist and spreading like a virus. It hadn’t bubbled up or even seemed painful, but it was worrisome all the same. 

“When did this appear?” She asked, quiet and concerned.

“Two days ago, I think.” He shrugged. Max didn’t seem to care about the rash at all, despite the fact that he didn’t know what had caused it.

“Why didn’t you mention it?” At Gwen’s question, he took his hand back and looked away from her.

“It’s not like it hurts or anything. I figured it’s not a big deal.” He explained, and once again snapped his hand away as David tried to look at it. “It’s fine.” Max insisted caustically, just turning to his book again.

David first instinct was to press. He wanted to know, where else had it spread? Did it hurt anywhere? Had he started bruising easily, or finding cuts he didn’t remember getting?  
But Gwen had a different approach, instead scanning the kid and shrugging. “If you say so,” she said, and at that the kid relaxed. He had found himself on the defense, ready to lash out as always, but with Gwen’s mild reaction he seemed to calm down.

David didn’t understand why she didn’t seem concerned — anxiety was heavy in his stomach, weighing on his shoulders and leaving a bad taste in his mouth. But seeing both Max and Gwen relax helped put him at ease at least a little.

 

It wasn’t long before Max fell asleep on the floor in front of the fire, at first having laid down with his book next to him and slowly dozing off. The day had been long and stressful, draining on the small kid’s body.

David carefully took the book out of his hands, folding the corner of the page he was on before closing it and putting it down to carry Max to bed. When he returned, Gwen was still sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the fire, eyes closed as she tried to relax.

“Hey, do we still have that bottle of cabernet?” She asked, and David nodded. “You mind if we bust that out?”

“I don’t really drink, but yeah, that’s fine.” David pulled the bottle out of his bag and found Max’s swiss army knife, flipping out the corkscrew for her.

The night was quiet as she sat next to David, taking small sips from the bottle of wine in her hands and looking into the fire. Though she was still anxious, being able to breathe easy for the night helped just a bit.

“Hey, I was wondering,” David started. “Why didn’t you ask Max more about that rash?” 

Gwen shrugged. “I figured the reason he didn’t mention it was because he didn’t want us to worry. Popped up around the same time you were attacked.” 

David hadn’t thought of it that way. In fact, he hadn’t wondered why Max was so insistant on the fact that he was fine in the first place. Obviously he wasn’t — people don’t get rashes on their hands when they’re fine.

“That kid cares a lot, you know.” Gwen continued. “He got up early the day after that wolf, started the fire again and made food. And checked out what happened this morning while I was having a panic attack. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t care.”

David just thought about it for a moment, staring into the fire as Gwen took another sip of her wine. “I think that it’s malnourishment. The rash.” He said quietly, almost hoping that she wouldn’t hear him.

For a moment, he thought she didn’t, then her gaze flickered to the floor. She said nothing, silently trying to communicate that she had thought about it but didn’t dare say it out loud. She hoped that maybe this place would fix it, but hoping wouldn’t change anything. They both knew it, and refused to say it.

They were running out of time.

Gwen leaned on David’s shoulder, prompting him to put an arm around her shoulder. More than anything, they just wanted this to be over, wanted to go home and eat a normal meal. And if not that, just sleep in their own beds again, letting home slowly fade away under the grip of sleep one more time.

But they shook off the thought, trying to find something else to talk about.

“What do you think we should do tomorrow?” Gwen murmured.

“I don’t know. The water’s running, so we should probably all shower first. We’ll move from there. That sound good?”

Gwen nodded, taking a moment to just enjoy the silence. For once, her mind wasn’t racing or on repeat, and she took it as a small gift. Outside, the wind awoke, sighing and breathing with the rest of the world. The sky brewed it’s silent storms, and the mountains gripped the winter fiercely.

“We should probably get to bed.” David said, carefully shaking Gwen awake from her half-asleep state. She blinked, gathering herself for a moment before plugging her wine bottle and setting it down next to the fireplace.

“Yeah. God, I can’t wait to clean the stink off me.” She sighed as she stood up. “Bedtime?”

David stood next to her, looking at the small and half drunken smile on her face and smiling. “Bedtime,” he agreed.

As fragile as sleep had been for them, the night greeted them well. For one second, all the earth sighed with them, falling asleep quickly and peacefully for the first time in ages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry, but this story is going on a sort of semi-hiatus. I've come very close to finishing the story on the Google Doc I write it in, but I've hit a wave of depression, and often when I force myself to work on something when it's bad I end up creating something I don't like. I wouldn't want to make this story drop in quality so close to the end!
> 
> However, I'm still writing, but briefly focusing on smaller projects. I have one more chapter planned for a shorter story I worked on alongside this one, and I'm also taking requests on my Camp Camp Tumblr, **more-camp-camp-fic-please**! If there's anything you'd like to see me write, please feel free to send an ask, and if I reblog a list of prompts feel free to pick one and send it!
> 
> I probably won't be posting until I've completely finished writing _If You Love Me, Don't Let Go_ , but if things go well it won't be long at all. Once everything is tidied up, I'll begin posting chapters as usual!
> 
> Thank you to the kind people who've left comments, especially to those who point out things they notice, like foreshadowing or lines that caught their eye. It makes checking my inbox so much fun! And thank you everyone for reading!


	23. I Could Never Kiss You And Leave — Day Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK BABEY!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> I'm sorry I was gone for so long! Things have been real rough, I got a job and then finished my breakdown and now things should be good! I'm going back to regularly posting chapters now (Fridays, anywhere from 3 to 8 PM EST), so it won't be long until we reach our finale! Thank you all SO INCREDIBLY MUCH for sticking around with me through this!

The wind of a new storm battered the home they had found refuge in, kicking and screaming against the fragile wall of sleep Gwen had built around herself. Windows shook and even the earth shivered, the deadly grip winter had seized on it beginning to take it’s toll.

Gwen turned, putting one of her pillows over her head to try and block out the noise. When that proved to be useless, she resigned to laying on her back and staring at the ceiling, trying to fall back asleep to the sound. Winter wind scraped the sides of the building, pounding it’s fists against the walls and begging to be let in, screaming and scratching and wishing to be anything but alone in it’s misery.

No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t sleep, leaving her drowsy in the middle of bed.  _ How the hell has this not woken up David or Max yet? _ She wondered as she tried to fall asleep. 

Clearing her mind wouldn’t work, and as she laid there, the light began to shift across the room, clouds moving to allow the pale sunlight into the room. As Gwen laid there, she let her mind wander, painting a picture of the outside world. She imagined the wind outside as a person much like herself, fingertips tracing the cracked edges of the wood that created the walls of a cabin.  She imagined the mountains as towering giants that reached over the landscape, plucking people out of the snow and planes out of the sky.

She imagined her and David and Max, huddled around a fire and talking about home, quickly running out of things to talk about but still talking all the same. She imagined the whole world fading away around them, leaving just them and the hope that they fabricated.

Gwen opened her eyes again from the edges of sleep, blinking in the morning light as her head began to ache, a small hangover sinking in.

Without a second thought, she made her way out of bed, deciding that a fire might help heal the chill that had settled in.

 

It wasn’t long before Max woke up, quietly settling in front of the fire as usual. His book was still closed on the floor in front of his spot, and he just looked at it for a moment. He didn’t even remember falling asleep, to be honest — one second he was in his book’s world, and the next he was wrapped in a blanket and staring at the window that led outside, an ashen storm surrounding them.

It hadn’t even occurred to him that someone might have seen him asleep on the floor and thought he could have been uncomfortable. Instead, he just looked at the fold in his page, wondering when he had decided to turn in and why he hadn’t remembered it.

“Well, I guess we’re locked in here for the day.” David said as he walked into the living room, looking out the window as he stretched. The white haze of snow whipped around outside, battering the windows and surrounding their home. “Can’t go anywhere in weather like this!”

David’s small talk made Gwen laugh, thinking about last night and how things had changed so quickly. It was strange to her how quickly he could change his tone, going from an arm around her shoulder in the anxious dark to all bright smiles and optimism in what felt like a heartbeat.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, beginning to search through the cabinets to find something to make for breakfast.

“Good, just got a little headache. A little pukey.” She replied, sitting in front of the fire and enjoying the dry warmth.

Beside her, Max looked up from his book, not being able to focus on it. “What are we gonna do today? It’s not like we can check out town.” He looked out the window at the wind, visualized with the snow that it carried.

“We were thinking of getting cleaned off, since there might be hot water here. There’s probably not gonna be a lot though…” David trailed off, thinking and trying to come up with a way for everyone to get clean without running out of hot water.

Gwen had picked up her own book, flipping through the first few pages. “If Max can take a quick shower, we can just take one together, yeah?” She suggested with a shrug.

David immediately flushed at the suggestion. Of course, he was a mature person, but the idea just seemed so… Intimate. More than anything, he worried about making her feel anxious or awkward — though he was certainly trying to pretend like his own nervousness didn’t exist.

Then again, with the way the orange glow of firelight on Gwen’s face made his heart beat higher in his chest, it didn’t seem inappropriate. 

David nodded, trying to push away the pink flush in his cheeks. “Yeah!” His voice cracked as he put on his normal cheerful smile, and as he felt breath catch in his throat, he changed the subject. “So, what should we eat for breakfast?”

 

It had been two and a half weeks since they had seen themselves in full, and never before had they looked like this.

Max could only see the worst of his bruises, the yellow and green tones of fading bruises hidden by gray monochrome in his mind. The spots that littered his arms had grown darker, more noticeable and redder as they began to crawl up his forearms to his shoulders and back. He hadn’t even noticed the dark stain on his skin that rested just above his stomach, a bruise that hadn’t found the time to heal surrounding him.

It was strange to see just how bad it all was. He had only felt the effects of his injuries, and seeing them in full made it feel real. He still had the marks of frostbite on his cheeks and the tip of his nose, bitter reminders of the long journey to the town he had made home.

And through all of this, his gaze had only sharpened. The two and a half weeks since the crash had made his cold glare pierce the mirror he inspected them in like daggers, and not even the gray filter he saw the world in could hide the cold shade they held.

With his anger in juxtaposition to his soreness, he huffed and started the water of the shower, letting it begin to steam.

The water may have been gentle on his skin, but it still reopened the scabbed over cuts on his face and hands. They had become fragile and begging to burst, and the small cuts his nails had created in his palm had become deeper and begun to bleed more, too.

He was a mess of purple and red, but refused to look in the mirror to acknowledge it as he got out of his short shower.

He left the bathroom, comfortable in just the light long-sleeve he’d been wearing for weeks now. It was a peculiar feeling to be without his outer armor, but he had to admit, it made the house feel a little bit more like home. The living room was quiet, Gwen completely captured in her book and David laying on the floor next to her, almost asleep.

The bandages that had been tightly wrapped around David’s arm were still stained with a thick kind of darkness Max couldn’t describe. It had to have been some sort of miracle that the wound hadn’t killed him — the kid could still picture the awful cut when it had first opened, picture Gwen looking at her hands as the rusted scent of blood tainted the air.

“You guys can shower now.” He said simply. As he sat down in front of the fire, he became more conscious of the state he was in without his hoodie, hands bruised and covered in red patches. As Gwen looked over to him, he began to regret leaving his sweater behind, almost considering getting up to grab it.

But she didn’t mention anything about his worsening appearance, folding the corner of her page and putting her book down as she muttered an  _ ‘alright, thanks’ _ . 

He watched as she woke David up, pulling him off the floor and helping him gain his bearings.

Max would never dare say anything aloud about it, about the way he could still picture the split second of terror on Gwen’s face as she looked at the scarlet gray on her hands, nor the colorless expression in David’s face as he held the near frozen woman in his arms. Even thinking about how it had made him feel so small, so helpless, made him bite his tongue, resenting the feeling as he lived it again. 

If he ever said it aloud, ever admitted to once feeling like this was the end, surely it would become true.

 

David still felt awkward about the whole situation, but Gwen’s casualness about it all was helpful. Regardless, he still tread carefully, turning away when she had begun to undress in front of the mirror.

He could tell his whole face was flushed — he’d always had a bad problem with blushing whenever he was embarrassed, feeling the heat on his nose and cheeks as he tried to look away from whatever it was that had him feeling like that. Taking off his shirt only had him feeling more self-conscious, seeing his battered body in full and wishing he could hide it.

“Jesus,” he heard Gwen mutter, and looked over his shoulder to investigate. She was facing the mirror, head turned to look over her shoulder so she could inspect her back. A large swath of her shoulder was red and scratched up, a half-healed mixture of burns and road rash. “Probably from the crash.” She mumbled, sounding tired. Tired of finding new injuries. Tired of finding new ways this would scar the body she could barely even stand before all of this. Forget about now.

But David was thoroughly distracted, watching every single one of Gwen’s movements. She was a myriad of color, purple and blue and yellow bruises spread over her warm brown skin. Her lilac eyes sparked with emotion, sadness to see the injury she was observing and anger for the accident that had caused it. As he looked at the dark red-brown curls that ran just passed her shoulder, he was reminded of the ponytail it had been pulled into when he first saw her, completely oblivious to all they would go through together in the coming weeks.

The blush on his face was quick to return as Gwen turned to look at him, and he wondered if she had noticed him staring. He quickly turned away, feigning business as he looked at his bandaged arm and the dried blood underneath it.

“Oh, shit. I forgot about that.” Gwen cursed, and though she was talking about David’s injury, she didn’t venture any closer to him, self conscious. “What should we do about the bandages?”

“We have more in the bag, right?” David hoped.

“Not much. Just enough to rewrap it once, I think.” She answered, ad David hummed in thought.

“Honestly, I don’t think this is coming off any time soon. We’ll just wait on it for now. Can’t really risk reopening it.” The blood loss over the past few weeks had begun to seriously affect him, making him dizzy and tired all of the time. Then again, the exhaustion could be signs of depression — there were too many things it could be, with how much he’d been through over the past two and a half weeks.

Gwen nodded, walking over to the shower and starting the water, letting it run through her fingertips until it was warm enough for her to welcome.

“Alright, I’m hopping in.” David hummed an acknowledgement, deciding to make his way to the mirror.

It was strange to see his reflection so sharp, so bright compared to the reflection in frosted over windows in the darkness. His beard had filled out, and he was far paler than he was the last time he’d inspected himself. 

Before he could really look at what he’d become, he looked away from the mirror, not wanting to take it in. For now, he would just clean himself off, at least try to be more than the image he’d seen.

The warm water was a welcome comfort, at first a sting on his cut and bruised skin until he had adjusted to the long forgotten warmth. The water was dark coming off him, dirt and sweat finally being able to be rinsed off. The heaviness of his state still rested inside of him, but being able to clean the grime off of him felt like shackles finally clicking open and releasing him.

Just breathing in the steam was something more liberating than he could even remember.

 

The wind refused to let up, sending snow flying passed the windows of the tony home they were in. The rest of the day was spent looking through the house, trying to find ways to entertain themselves.

David and Gwen had quietly helped each other clean off, too sore and stiff to reach their backs and too tired to concentrate on their own hair. Somehow, doing it for someone else made it easier, not to mention that Gwen might have rubbed her newly discovered roadrash raw again if not for David, who was careful to clean it while putting as little pressure on it as possible.

After their shower, Gwen had found a hair elastic, glad to be able to pull her curls into their usual ponytail again. Hers had either snapped or fallen out sometime during the crash.

She had been trying not to think about it, but as she tried to remember what had happened to the hair band, she found that thinking about was nearly impossible. Maybe she had hit her head during the fall and just hadn’t noticed, because when she looked back, there was a big gap in her mind. One minute she was looking out her window to the sputtering turbine of the plane and the next she was walking through a blizzard, cold and alone.

The memory made her shiver, and the fire in front of her did nothing to warm her.

Sitting on the couch with David, book in hand, at least helped keep her distracted. By the time everyone was itching to eat dinner, she had finished her book, not having realized so much time had passed. The only hint of the day moving any farther from this morning was how hungry she’d become.

Without any butter or milk, their macaroni and cheese wasn’t the greatest, but it was certainly the most appreciated meal that they had had for quite a while. Being able to drink as much water as they wanted without needing to go outside to get snow to melt was a blessing in and of itself.

Gwen laid on the couch, a new book in her hand as she finally began to relax. The pressure the arm of the couch put on the road rash on her back made her it sore again, but the simple relief of everything else lacking pain was worth it.

She closed her eyes, leaning back and putting her book on her stomach.

The loud crack of a gunshot rang in her head, and though the world around her was fuzzy, she could feel herself on her feet, trying to scan her surroundings.

A pair of vibrant green eyes met hers, and with another shot of a gun, they were gone.

She jumped up from her position laying down, the dream still hazy in her mind. David already had a hand on her shoulder, trying to say while she was so panicked,  _ I’m here. _

“Gwen?” He said quietly. She looked over, seeing the emerald tone of his eyes and feeling grounded. “You were saying something in your sleep.” He comforted.

She breathed, trying to shake the image out of her head. The look of fear she had seen had seemed so real, the rest of the setting having completely faded around the feeling.

“Are you okay?” David hesitated, not knowing if Gwen was okay to answer.

But she sighed, running a hand through the loose curls that framed her face. “Yeah, just a shitty dream. Where’s Max?”

“He went to bed about ten minutes ago.” David said as he sat down on the couch next to Gwen, hoping to help her calm down. She leaned on him, almost instinctively.

Gwen nodded, letting her tension fade away once again. “I think I just can’t believe we can actually relax for a minute here.”

David hummed his agreement, watching as she looked into the scarlet fire light and wondering what exactly she saw there, what her reality was showing her.

She had to have seen it. The way she had looked at the blood on her fingertips when she had first seen David’s injury seemed so shocked, so thoroughly terrified at what she had seen. Could it have been that that’s when it had all started? Could that have been the turning point she had been looking for in Edmonton?

“Hey, I…” David thought for a moment, trying to find the words for what he was going to say. “Can I ask about something that might be a bit of a… Sensitive topic?”

Gwen looked at him curiously. “Sure.”

“I know you were heading to Edmonton to publish your book, but… Was there any other reason you wanted to head there?” He sounded quiet as he asked it, looking away from her.

She scanned him for a second, trying to see what it was that he was feeling. He looked small, almost ashamed.

“Was there someone you were trying to find?”

Gwen honestly couldn’t tell what answer he was looking for, sitting there and wondering just what it was that was going through his head. But looking at him, at the expression he wore as he looked towards the dark bandages on his arm, she pinned it down. He looked at himself and saw something that didn’t deserve her, something that hadn’t worked hard enough to have earned what he saw.

He was wondering, if things had been different, had been  _ better, _ would it still be him?

And Gwen couldn’t answer that.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” She finally answered. “There’s really no point in wondering what would have happened if we’d gotten to the city. I mean, all in all, I was lucky enough to get stuck out here with you.”

David smiled. “Gosh, I can’t even imagine being out here with anyone else.”

“Like that snooty business man in the seat ahead of us?” Gwen offered with a laugh. “Or the lady in the aisle seat who was absolutely hammered by the time we were halfway there?”

David covered his mouth as he laughed, as if he could hide the smile there from the spirits of those they were making fun of. 

As the wind sighed outside, beginning to finally tire out in the darkness, the sound of crackling fire replaced it, beginning to lull Gwen back to sleep. “And I want you to know, there really is no one else I’d rather be trapped in the mountains with.”

David smiled and sighed, leaning on Gwen. “We should probably get to bed, it’s getting late. If we’re looking around town tomorrow, we’re gonna need a whole lot of energy.”

She hummed in agreement, but didn’t move to stand up, only turning to face David again.

In between the moment where she just sat there wondering how to make it happen and the moment where she was kissing David, she remembered all of the moments before this whole mess had started. She remembered all of the books she had read with simple and still lovely concepts, kisses leading to the world blooming into color or ones that put the top five most amazing kisses to shame. She remembered being 16 and depressed, looking at those magical moments in her books and thinking,  _ that just doesn’t happen in real life. _

But she had never even thought about just how wonderful it could be to be proved wrong. And as she sat there, her heart in her chest and David’s arms holding her close, all she could think about was how she never wanted to forget this. She never wanted to forget the way the whole world faded around her and David, how nothing in the world mattered and how for just a moment she hang onto this sensation and this sensation only, forgetting about her bruised body and only being able to think that she was so lucky to have had this for even a moment.

When she pulled away, she smiled, looking at David’s face. His eyes were wide and his gaze flickered over every aspect of her face, trying to memorize it all. His face had gone red and a smile pulled at his lips, clear through the ginger facial hair he’d grown.

Gwen laughed at the starstruck look on his face, standing up with a smile. “Alright, I’m heading to bed.” She said, walking towards the bedroom and leaving David to sit on the couch looking like he’d just kissed the night sky itself.

“I’ll be there.” He sighed, and Gwen laughed again at how enamored he was. When Gwen got to bed, she laid down, holding her pillow tightly in her arms. 

While she would still have nightmares, still beaten and broken and bruised by all that was happening to her, it was good to know that she would have someone there, even if it was just for now.


	24. Everything Not Saved Will Be Lost — Day Nineteen

It is a rare moment when someplace like the lonely valleys in Saskatchewan pause, letting the blue-gray morning light sink into the cold landscapes like a stone in the river. All too often the winter storms lurk the edges of the territory, creeping in like wolves trying to make their kill. It makes a foil out of the moments where wind does not rip through the valley and snow lies dormant in the sunlight, knowing it will have to wither when the summer begins to arrive.

Max looked out of the window that was built into the door, his breath having melted away the frost. It looked as cold as ever outside, but some itch inside of him moved his hand, urging him to press his hand against the doorknob.

Gwen and David were still asleep in the bedroom behind him. It would be so easy for him to slip away, explore the town on his own and breathe in the milky sunlight that had gathered outside. He didn’t know what it was, but something inside of him made him want to leave, as if he were supposed to find something.

It was like someone far away was calling his name, telling him to come back home.

He glanced behind him, looking at the bedroom door and listening for any creak. When the world stayed silent, still on pause, he turned back to the door, quietly pushing it open.

The cold and stagnant air welcomed him as he took a step out, shutting the door behind him to keep it outside. He wasn’t planning on going anywhere, he was just going to get a breath of fresh air and then go back inside to wait for Gwen and David to wake up.

But the air wasn’t anything remotely fresh — it was frostbitten and nothing like the wilderness he knew. He could remember camping trips with his family, where the autumn air rustled the leaves and awoke the forest, where he could be with his real family, before all of the awful things that had separated them.

The town around him grumbled, a beast awakening with a monstrous hunger. He looked around, trying to see where the curious feeling in his stomach was coming from, trying to find just what it was that made him want to run so badly. There was  _ something _ out there, there had to be, and he was aching to find it.

He took another step away from the door, the sound of snow being crushed under his foot a small comfort. The winter air moved around him, the only thing to stir it as far as the eye could see.

The memory of gunshots and broken glass was fresh in his mind, an image that he couldn’t shake. He turned around for a moment to look at the cabin he and Gwen and David would call home for now, remembering Gwen’s scream and the way the world became a blurry haze as the bullet ripped through the air.

He couldn’t leave. If anything happened to David or Gwen while wasn’t there — 

The picture of him wandering through the snow alone was an image he couldn’t afford to let become reality. And he just might never be able to forgive himself.

He turned around, going back into the cabin and shaking off the cold, unable to shake the voice in his head, begging him to find it.

 

Gwen grumbled as she woke up, desperately not wanting to face the world. In her dreams she kept feeling this strange drop in her stomach, dread filling her until she shook herself awake for a few moments, gaining her bearings and then falling right back asleep.

But as she sat up, the feeling happened again as she turned, realizing Max wasn’t next to her.

David muttered quietly as she left bed, gripping the air like a child. “Just a sec,” She said, opening the bedroom door and looking for Max. When she saw him lying on the floor in front of the fireplace, dressed in his hoodie to make up for a lack of fire, she put a hand to her chest, sighing.

She wanted to believe they were safe here. She wanted to believe that this would be over soon, that within a few days they’d hear the whirr of helicopter blades or the rumbling of a car engine. But the idea seemed so far away now; even the memory of home had begun to fade. The memory of feeling  _ safe _ had begun to fade, adrenaline always pricking at her consciousness.

She closed the door heading back to bed where David sat up, facing her with his eyes closed. “Whahyuloofur?” He muttered, and Gwen snorted.

_ “What?” _ She asked, incredulous.

David smiled, his eyes not opening as he paused for a second. “What?” He asked, sounding almost drunk.

Gwen laughed again, looking at the tired expression on David face. “Christ, you must be tired.” She said as she got back in bed, and David was quick to wrap his arms around her shoulders and lay back down, pulling her with him.

“I jus’ wanna relax with you.” He said with a smile, and Gwen laughed, wondering what on earth had gotten into him. He raised a clumsy had to pull stray lock of hair out of her face, tucking behind her ear. 

“We gotta get up eventually,” Gwen said, though her heart wasn’t in it. “We got things to do.”

David’s smile faltered for a second, a thought seeming to cross his mind. “I know,” he said quietly, then smiled again as he moved to a new train of thought. “I wanna put flowers in your hair.” He murmured, and Gwen laughed.

“You’re a dork,” She said with a smile. “What got this into your head?”

David shrugged, looking away, his smile weak and false. “I had a bad dream, s’all. Just glad you’re here.”

Gwen reached over, putting a hand on the side of his neck to feel the soft beard that adorned his face, a darker shade of scarlet than his ruffled curls. He didn’t move, just looking at her with a strange look of confliction.

“I’m glad you’re here, too.” She said quietly, and David moved his fingers in her hair, remembering how it felt to help lather shampoo into it yesterday. It was dry and almost starchy in it’s feel, and every so often a fallen strand would get caught under his fingernails, but he still enjoyed every moment he could share the small intimacy with her. “We should probably get up.” Gwen whispered.

David looked at her, nodding a small bit but still not moving. When she shifted, putting her hand on top of his and rubbing her thumb over it before moving, he spoke again. It was posed almost like a question, as if he were asking permission to say it, like he were a child afraid of getting his favorite thing taken away from him.

“I love you.” He said quietly, and Gwen’s heart clenched at the way he said it, like a child whose favorite blanket has been taken away. She knew well that there was a chance they wouldn’t both make it out of here, the thought always a heavy burden in the back of her mind. David’s body couldn’t take any more blood loss, and any wrong step, any shift of weight where there shouldn’t be could prove fatal to either of them if they were not careful.

There was already so much on the line, and having this between them just meant they had that much more to lose.

“I love you too,” she said, the promise quiet on her tongue as she stood up, making her way out of the bedroom.

 

The snow was still light on the ground, not fulling having settled in from being picked up by the wind the day before. Gwen’s boots squeaked against the powder, David beside her and Max walking in the footprints she left not too far behind her. 

“So, what exactly are we looking for?” Max asked, hopping from each footprint to the next. Her strides were much longer than his, but keeping up was easy enough. Each small jump was worth the energy he saved by not walking through the snow himself, though he hesitantly would admit it was a bit fun.

“Firewood mostly. We should find some more food though, just to be safe. That gas station is probably loaded.” Gwen said, turning to look over her shoulder for a second at Max as he hopped from print to print.

“It’s probably got firewood too! Gas stations around these areas usually do.” David added.

“Then we’ll definitely go there first.” Gwen decided.

As they walked, David slowed down until he was walking beside Max. His dream was still fresh in his mind, anxiety heavy in his chest. It must have been evident on his face, because as he drew close to him, Max spoke.

“What’s got you so scared?” He asked, as mocking as ever.

“Hm?” David looked over, quick to act like nothing was wrong. “What do you mean?”

“You look like the next gust of wind is gonna send you running for the hills.  _ That’s _ what I mean.” Max deadpanned.

David thought for a minute.  _ That kid really cares about you, _ he remembered Gwen saying, and he remembered being too scared to say  _ ‘he cares about you, too.’ _ He took a moment to weigh his options, trying to find the best way to offer comfort. He didn’t want Max to worry just because he was anxious for no reason.

“It’s nothing, I just had a bad dream is all. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about!”

Max looked at him, clearly not believing him.  _ Maybe he thinks something is going to happen, too? _ David thought, and suddenly his anxiety became even worse. What if something bad  _ was _ just right around the corner? What would do if something bad  _ did _ happen?

He shook off the thought.  _ If something bad happens, _ he decided,  _ I’ll do everything I can to protect Gwen and Max.  _

Because that’s what mattered, more than anything else had thus far.

“Alright. Whatever.” Max said, letting it go.

David smiled, suppressing a heavy sigh inside of him.  _ This is my job, _ he told himself, ignoring how tired he was. So tired of being scared. So tired of waiting for something he already knew was going to happen.

The gas station hung heavy in the spot it laid, dark and seemingly forgotten for a long time since the winter storms first moved in. The road beside it was only lightly dusted with snow, small pocks in it’s layer from the salt that had been laid down so long ago. It was strange to see the blacktop under everything, to finally see the ground uncovered, albeit only slightly. 

Gwen, David, and Max approached the place cautiously, distrusting of the safety it tried to signal. The overhang at the front door had begun to sink in, looking like it would cave under the snow it held at any moment. 

Gwen tried the doorknob, the thing only clicking and slipping under her hand. She sighed, only mildly disappointed — she hadn’t really expected anything. Only hoped.

However, looking at the glass revealed a message, a small piece of paper taped to the inside of the door. The handwriting was scrawled haphazardly on the paper, seemingly rushed.  _ ‘Call for gas — we’ll be here within an hour.’ _ A phone number was written underneath, and Gwen could feel her shoulders beginning to shake.

“Holy shit.” She muttered. “Holy shit! If we can find a phone around here we’ll be out in an hour!” She whipped around, looking for David and Max. They had walked around, grabbing bundles of firewood from under a tarp. They looked at her, wide-eyed. 

“Seriously?” Max muttered, and David ran over to look at the note with Gwen.

“This is amazing!” He exclaimed, taking Gwen in his arms and spinning her around. “I mean, I was hoping that the town would mean we were getting close, but I didn’t imagine…!” 

Gwen laughed with him, watching him run over to Max and pick him up too. The kid scowled as he was held close to David’s chest, only tolerating it for a minute before groaning and trying to pull away from the hug. David put him down, instead favoring to cheer on his own, bouncing like a cartoon character.

“Okay, okay.” David said, trying to calm himself down. “So we just need to find a phone, right? There’s gotta be one around town somewhere!”

“We shouldn’t get our hopes up. This could be a dead end,” She said, gesturing to the note. “But we know that somebody’s come through here before, the roads are salted. If we can’t find a phone, we’ll set up a patrol around the roads and keep an eye out for cars.” She explained, and David nodded.

“We still gotta hope, though!” He beamed. They  _ had _ to hope that rescue was on the way, because soon enough it might be too late. They  _ had  _ to believe that soon they’d be out of here, because hope was really all they had left.

Gwen nodded. “Right,” she said, knowingly. “Where do we start?”

Max shrugged. “We’re probably gonna have to break into places. We just got lucky with that one place being unlocked.”

“I don’t know,” David started, anxious. “Isn’t that bad? We only broke into that one place because it was the only place we could sleep.”

“This isn’t the place for an ethics debate, David.” Max said, irritated. “Look, we already know Gwen can kick in a door, and we don’t have any other ways of finding a phone. We’ve stolen worse things than some electricity.”

David looked to Gwen, her amethyst eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’m with him.” At David’s fretful whine, she continued with a smile. “Come on, David! You gotta have a sense of adventure! What’s better than being out in the middle of nowhere, stuck in the mountains and breaking into people’s abandoned homes?” She playfully bumped David’s shoulder, and he laughed. He didn’t think he’d seen her like this, so excited and happy. “We’ll worry about consequences once we’re safe and in our beds. At home.”

David stood up straighter, smiling brightly again. “Alright! Then I guess we should get exploring!”

Gwen and Max cheered with excitement, heading off in the direction of town once again, hopes high. 

For the first time in a long time, truly believing rescue was out there.

 

The search for a phone had proved fruitless. They had checked nearly every building in the area, and only one had a home phone, the wires of which had been violently stripped and shredded.

Despite this, David managed to find a way to keep morale high. “There are still more houses, and maybe there’ll be others just outside of town! One of them  _ has _ to have a working phone. Worst case scenario, we start keeping an eye on the road, or write down the number and start heading south again.”

Gwen breathed in, having been deeply upset and just a little distressed at the sight of the torn apart wiring. “Okay,” she sighed. “Okay.”

This was deliberate — that’s what bothered her. Someone had gone out of their way to destroy outside communication for one reason or another, and it was probably the same person who had shot the train car. It was probably the same person who had left drugs all over the place.

“We should just head home.” Max said, shoulders stiff and hands in his pockets. The sight bothered him, too, but he tried his best not to let onto it.

“Definitely.” David put an arm around Gwen’s shoulder to comfort her, leading her out of the house with Max.

The cabin they had made home was cold when they got back, leading Gwen to start the fire again quickly. Though their stomachs growled, warmth was a higher priority, no one moving to make dinner until the house had begun to warm up.

Max sat in front of the fire as the night began to settle in, the sky turning into a dark gray outside. Gwen sat beside him, a book in her lap but the words going through her head.

“How’s that rash feeling?” She asked.

Max caught himself on the defence again, biting back his instinct to insist he was fine and instead weighing his options.  _ Here is different than home,  _ he told himself. “It doesn’t hurt, but it’s a little… I don’t know, unsettling?” He admitted. “But it’s fine. I can deal with it.”

Gwen nodded, only able to hope he was being truthful.

“What are we doing tomorrow?”

She thought for a moment. “Well, we found that tape, so we should put up a note at the gas station. We might want to split up for a little while, one of us can set up roadblocks while the other checks those last few houses, maybe explore the edges of town. We should check to see if there’s a lake, in case we need to start fishing again.”

She said her last thought quietly, like she didn’t want to admit it might come to that. They couldn’t afford to spend more days sat out on a lake, hoping that small fish would be followed by bigger fish and that they would be close behind. They couldn’t afford to be out here for much longer at all.

After eating, Max was quick to go to bed. He’d been exhausted lately, his sickness and new anxiety draining him.

As he walked towards the bedroom, Gwen called over to him. “You’re sure you’re okay?” She asked.

“Yep.” Max casually reaffirmed and headed off to bed, trying to forget the bad shape this wasteland had left him in. Trying to forget that there was only so much time left to find a way out of here.


	25. I Can't Save Us — Days Twenty And Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for suicidal thoughts and ideation.

David’s smile didn’t falter the whole day. He smiled as he made breakfast, smiled as he left the house, smiled as he explained plans on how they were going to find a way back home. Not for a moment did he let Gwen and Max believe he was anything other than optimistic, as if believing rescue was on the way would make it come faster.

But perhaps he got the result he wanted out of his unrelenting positivity. It was contagious, and made the miserable tasks of creating roadblocks more bearable. After digging a few shovels out of a garage, everyone put themselves to work, piling snow up on the empty roads and then leaving a note on the door to the gas station, reading,  _ ‘Plane crash survivors here. Please stop.’ _ David’s attitude even got Max in a well enough mood to build a snowman in the road, using it as a roadblock as well as a way to get people to stop.

“What’s this one’s name?” No one had made any comment when they first passed Czar Snotrocket; or, at least, what was left of him. Someone or something had knocked him over, and no one wanted to comment as they left his snowy corpse behind.

Max thought, looking at their new snowman. This one was more lumpy and not nearly as neat as the last one had been, his smile crooked and arms completely uneven in length. “How about Facebreaker?” He suggested with a smirk.

“Looks more like face-broken to me,” Gwen said with a smile.

“I like it!” David said cheerily, and they let their snowman be, going to explore other areas of town.

 

It took until the sun had begun to dip down below the horizon for them to reach the far end of town. Had they known it was there, they might have admired it sooner — a lake that stretched as far as the eye could see cut through the mountains, a lone island in it’s center. In the distance, a bridge reached over a thin part of the lake, making way for the train tracks to cut across and continue their path to somewhere else.

“Maybe we should move out stuff to a house closer to here.” Gwen suggested, not taking her eyes off the lake. It was strange to find beauty all the way out here, to forget for a moment all that had happened and instead admire at the fiery skies and the ice that mirrored it. “We could start fishing again, if we have to.”

David nodded, looking at Gwen while she was distracted. She never did fit in with all the blue and white tones of the tundra — the warm colors of the sunset suited her so much better. “I can probably grab what we need from there, if you two want to start a fire somewhere?” He offered.

“Yeah, I’m gonna make you carry all the shit we’ve accumulated over the past three weeks by yourself.” Gwen deadpanned. “I’ll go with you. If you want, Max, you can settle in someplace?”

David felt a shot of anxiety run through him, and was glad to see the kid shake his head. “Nah, thanks.” He said casually. “Let’s just head before it gets too cold.”

David smiled widely, happily marching back to the house with his family.

 

Despite all the progress they had made during the day, David still couldn’t find it in him to sleep. His body was tired, so tired that he didn’t even know if he could stand up if he wanted to, but his mind was racing, an unease in him keeping him awake and alert.

He couldn’t tell what it was. As far as he knew, they were all safe, for the first time in ages. They hadn’t found any evidence of the stranger with a gun, and yet there was this feeling that something was about to go wrong that haunted him. There was a terrible fate following him, and it’s footsteps were echoing deep within his mind.

He sat up with a sigh, shaking his head and giving in. Beside him, Gwen and Max slept, and as he looked back he felt that catastrophe pull at him again, away from them.

_ I need fresh air,  _ he decided, standing up and layering on his coats.

The night air outside was frostbitten and cold, not unlike everything else in the landscape. Above the steps he sat on, cleared of snow by hand, the sky was cloudless, letting him pick out it’s constellations and recall their names. The memory of their stories was hazy in his mind, but still there.

Something moved inside the house behind him, and he watched as the door creaked open. Max peered out, his vibrant green eyes clouded with tiredness as he stepped outside to join David.

“Oh, Max.” David said, pulling a small smile for what felt like the millionth time that day. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

He shook his head, sitting down on the steps beside him. “Can’t sleep. Keep waking up.”

“Oh.” David said simply. “I’m sorry.”

“Eh, it’s fine.” Max responded, leaning on his hand. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”

“Just looking at the stars. There’s no light pollution, so it’s nice to be able to see them again. I grew up in this small town on the coast of Maine, and I’ve missed it ever since I moved to the city.”

Max nodded. “Yeah. I always lived right in the city, so I haven’t really seen this until now.”

“Really?” David asked, rhetorically. “Do you know any of the constellations?”

“Just the big dipper.” He said, searching for it. He pointed to a set of stars that hung low in the sky, vibrant in the lack of light. “There, right?”

“Yeah!” David beamed. “Did you know it’s actually part of a bigger constellation?”

Max thought. “The bear one, right? Doesn’t it have some myth with it, too?”

“Yep! Ursa Major, it’s called. There are myths with almost all constellations.” He explained. “I remember when I was a little kid, my oldest sister, Amelia, became obsessed with stars. She saved up and bought her own telescope, and would sneak onto the roof of our house to use it. Scared the heck out of mom. She taught me about a lot of constellations, and their stories.”

Max looked at the starry sky, wondering how people could see pictures in the dotted night sky. He just couldn’t see it — to him, it was just lights, just like the lights of the city at night that faltered and flickered and faded. “You remember any? It’s boring out here.”

David smiled, genuinely for the first time in a while. Max so rarely showed any interest in things; he was happy to tell stories for him. “Definitely! Do you know Orion?”

Max shook his head, and David pointed at the sky to the right of where Max had spotted the last constellation.

“That line of three dots is his belt, and there are some other stars in the whole constellation. But my favorite constellation is the dog that follows him. Right down where the sky meets the lake, there are a couple stars, and that’s the beginning of Canis Major. He was a hunting dog, and Zeus gave him the ability to catch anything he pursued. But one day, he started chasing a fox, who was destined to never be caught. Zeus had to put an end to the chase by turning them both into stone, and to commemorate Canis, he put him in the sky as the constellation.”

Max silently moved closer to David as he talked, trying to shelter himself from the cold breeze that passed by. Wordlessly, David put an arm around the kid’s shoulders, hoping to warm him. Though normally Max would have swatted him away, he decided he was too cold for that right now.

“What else…” He hummed. “Oh! Draco is a great one too — it represents a dragon that Hera, Zeus’ wife, had protect her golden apple tree. Heracles was told to take some apples from the tree as one of his 12 labours, so he killed the dragon in order to steal from it. Hera was so upset by his death that she put him in the sky, and now he’s one of the biggest constellations out there. He’s right up there.” David pointed just above the big dipper at the winding trail of stars, imagining the dragon in the sky.

Max leaned into David, watching him point at the stars and beginning to see the picture there. Four stars connected at the beginning, and Max pictured the fangs of the dragon as he protected his tree.

“And just next to it is Cygnus. The Greek myth for it is pretty good, but I prefer the Chinese one. It’s called the Magpie Bridge. The story is about these two people called the weaver girl and the cowherd. They were in love, but their love was forbidden, so they were put on opposite sides of the Silver River. A magpie saw and felt bad, so once a year, he would gather his whole flock to come and form a bridge so that they could unite again. I think it’s celebrated as a festival in China even now.

“The myth behind Ursa Major is pretty cool too, it’s-” David stopped short as he looked at Max, having fallen asleep against him. “You there?” He asked, and the kid didn’t even twitch, only quiet snoring.

David laughed lightly, picking up the kid and holding him against his chest as he fiddled with the doorknob, pushing it open to be greeted by the warm house. He put Max in bed, pulling the covers over him and whispering.

“Good night.”

Maybe in the morning, the anxiety in his chest would finally fade. At least until then, he could think of better things, laying down to dream about the magpie so determined to help two lovers meet that he’d gather his whole flock just to bridge the gap between them.

 

Moving home base proved to be a nice change of pace. When Gwen woke up, she was able to look outside her window and watch the sun rise over the lake, gray morning light fading to a dull purple and then it’s normal sky blue.

David came out of the bedroom not long after her, as bubbly as always. He went straight to making breakfast, happily talking about the small moment he’d shared with Max the night before.

“I feel like I’m really starting to connect with him!” He beamed. “At least he’s opening up a bit. It was only a little comment that he lived in the city back home, and I know it’s not much but I still feel like I’ve made some progress!” He looked over at Gwen, who still looked out of the window. “Is something wrong?”

“Start of week three.” She said, her voice low. “Day twen-ty-one.” She emphasized each syllable, letting it come out as a sigh on her lips as she closed her eyes.

David came over with the pot of ramen noodles he’d made, sitting down on the couch with her. “We’re real close to getting out of here,” he reassured, handing a fork over to Gwen.

She breathed in deeply, concentrating for a moment before sighing again, opening her eyes and taking the fork. “Right.” She said quietly, and then with a small touch of determination, more sure. “Can’t lose hope just yet.”

 

The last of the houses in town didn’t have phones either, but David wouldn’t let that bother him. “Well, the gas station’s got to have a phone, yeah?” He said, smiling. “We’ll just have to get in there. No big deal, right?”

Gwen shrugged, and Max stood next to her, bitter as always. “I guess. I just hope the owners don’t try to press charges.” She said with a small smile. 

“Knowing our luck, they probably will.” Max said as they started to head towards the gas station. As always, he followed the path of footprints they had left on their way to the last house.

“Well, we’re not gonna let some silly lawsuit stop us!” David said optimistically.

“You’re gonna regret saying that a week from now.” Gwen added.

David felt his heart flutter. Did she actually believe that within a week they’d be out of here? Had his optimism brought some hope back to her? Was all of his exhaustion finally paying off?

“Might wanna hold off on that.” Max said, nodding toward the road ahead. The thin layer of snow on the blacktop had been severed by two lines of tire tracks, and everyone froze for a moment.

Though he knew he should be hopeful that someone had stopped, his dread pulled at him again, making his eyebrows furrow as a small frown bloomed on his face. He ran over to the road, looking down it in either direction.

The tire tracks ran over every pile of snow they had pushed onto the ground. Even the snowman had been plowed through, as if he had never been there at all. They may as well have done nothing to stop the person who had driven through.

Wordlessly, David walked closer to the gas station. Maybe he could hope they had stopped there, but the idea didn’t hold any traction in his mind.

The tracks turned to the station, but the car must have only briefly stopped before continuing down the road, ignoring the traces they had left behind. The note they had taped to the door was gone, now crumpled and left on the snow, wet and cold.

_ ‘Plane crash survivors here. Please stop.’ _ They had asked, only once again to be forgotten. Only once again to be left in the tundra, knowing they weren’t alone but that they were still destined to die out here.

David braced his forearm against the glass door, putting his forehead against the fabric of his sleeve as a storm brewed in his mind. Gwen and Max came around the corner, looking around with varied expressions.

Confused.

Distraught.

Infuriated.

Gwen walked over, looking at the balled up note, and then back at David. She was disappointed to say the least, but she couldn’t quite say she was surprised. “It’s okay,” she tried to reassure, though she didn’t quite believe it herself. “We’ll head out of town. Write down the phone number and take it with us. If we stick by the road we’ll have to find a real town soon.”

David heard, but didn’t react. He just gritted his teeth, face buried in his sleeve as he tried to keep calm, tried not to think about the fact that whoever was out here was going to get them killed one way or another.

_ “God  _ **_damn_ ** _ it!” _ He yelled suddenly, pounding his fist on the glass once. In a second, the whole panel of glass had shattered, Gwen and David both stumbling back.

“Jesus!” Gwen exclaimed, and David paused. Even he seemed shocked by what he’d done, looking at his hand and looking at he few small cuts the glass had left in him. He looked up at Gwen, eyes wide as his heart began to pound in his chest.

He’d been trying so hard to be hopeful for them, to keep morale high and repeat the belief that this would be over soon, that any minute now there would be a breakthrough and then things would get better. And now here he was, looking at Gwen in the evening light with a bloody hand and nothing left to turn into hope in his mind.

He thought he’d scared her. As if she needed anything else to be scared of here.

It had only surprised her, but David didn’t see it that way. When she stepped closer to him with a hand out, he stepped back.

“David, you’re bleeding.” She said quietly, and tried to get closer to him again. He stepped back, pulling his hand to his chest and shaking his head slightly.

“I should go. I’ll be fine, I just-” He said quietly before turning around. “I need to be alone for a little while. I’ll… I’ll meet you guys back at the house.”

And with that, he walked away, head hung low and resembling nothing of the man he used to be. Gwen sighed as she watched him, gripping her arms and not knowing what to do.

“Hey, Gwen?” Max said, seeming off. She turned to look at him. “There’s something in there.”

Gwen raised an eyebrow, slowly drawing closer to the station. Suddenly a heavy smell washed over, immediately filling her with dread. The scent of sulphur and gunpowder lingered in the air, quickly overpowered by something else. It was like the frost had parted just long enough to let a dumpster sit out in the sun, only a thousand times worse. Gwen held her nose and winced.

“Stay out here. Close by.” Max nodded in response, making his way around the corner of the gas station to avoid the smell.

There wasn’t much in the way of food in the station, a few stray candy bars and left over bags of chips. Gwen didn’t even bother touching them, knowing they probably smelled the same foul way the rest of the station did. Her stomach heaved inside her, and had there been anything left in there she would have certainly thrown up. She could  _ taste _ it in the air.

She looked around the corner of the counter, trying to find the source of the odor, but wasn’t successful until she pushed open the door to the back room.

It didn’t look real. His skin was waxy, like he was made out of latex, but the dark brown and scarlet streaks on the walls were a dead giveaway. He hadn’t looked real, and as she closed the door, she thought maybe she could convince herself he wasn’t.

Without another thought, she stepped outside, turning the corner to find Max. He leaned on the wall of the gas station, hands over his nose and mouth as he tried to block the smell.

“Let’s go,” Gwen said simply, and Max didn’t bother asking what it was she’d found. As he walked in her footprints, he thought of the constellations he was told about that night, thinking of how Canis never really would catch that fox.

 

With a timid tap of her knuckles against the wood, Gwen spoke into the quiet bedroom, the wall in between her and David stretching only a few inches but feeling miles longer. “David? You in there?”

He had found himself leaned against the headboard in the middle of the bed, the same spot that Gwen always took. She strained to hear him reply, voice low and quiet. “Yeah,” he said, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his lanky legs. The small cuts on his hand had stopped bleeding, but the pain was still fresh.

“Can I come in?” She asked, and when she got no reply, continued. “I am anyways.”

At the sound of the door opening, David buried his face in his arms, trying to hide in himself. Gwen sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and letting him lean into her, as if on instinct.

The silence was thick and bothersome, just another length between them.

“This sucks,” Gwen began. “I know. But we have to get out of here, right? We didn’t get three weeks into this shithole just to die out here.” She paused, thinking about what she’d said for a moment. “Right?”

“That’s not it,” David whispered, so quiet that Gwen couldn’t hear him.

“We can start hiking, try and find places to stop. We’ll just have to find someplace that isn’t abandoned. I know it looks shitty right now, but we’re going to survive this. All of us.”

“That’s not it!” David exclaimed, lifting his head up and looking up at Gwen. Tears had begun to fall down his face, and he gritted his teeth. “I don’t  _ care _ about getting out of here.”

She looked at him, confused.

“Ever since we found that wreckage at the end of the tracks,” he sighed, a bitter smile on his face as he looked down. “Ever since, it’s just… It doesn’t matter. Nothing does. And then that wolf attacked, and I thought that was it, but I just- I couldn’t leave you. I can’t leave you two out here.”

Gwen’s heart began to pound, trying to deny what she knew he was saying.

“Ever since we found that, there’s been this  _ thing _ in my head, and it’s telling me that we’re not getting out of here without losing someone. And it’s gonna be me.” He sighed quietly, burying his face into Gwen’s sleeve as his throat tightened. “It  _ has _ to be me. There this  _ thing _ in my  _ head _ and all it wants is for everything to stop, all it wants is for me to leave, and I can’t do that until you and Max are safe.”

Gwen shook her head, holding onto David tightly as he began to weep. How had she not known? How had she not noticed this sooner?

“I don’t  _ care _ if I get out of here. All that matters is you and Max getting out. And if I can’t do that-” He let out a sob, gripping tightly on Gwen’s shirt. “If I can’t do that, I’ll fail.”

He whimpered as Gwen tried to respond. “No. No, no, no, you can’t-” She stuttered, trying to find something to say, anything to tell him that this was wrong, that whatever voice had weaseled it’s way through his thick skull was not telling him the truth. “That’s not your job, you don’t-” She failed again to get the words right, instead breaking down just a little more, the wall she had put up between her and this situation crumbling just a little bit more.

_ “I can’t save you,” _ he weeped, curling into himself as his grip on Gwen weakened, and she tried to hold him tighter in response.

“No, you never had to. You’re not going to die out here. That’s not your job.” She said quietly, bent so she could speak against David’s hair and holding him like if she didn’t contain him he just might fall away like water in her hands.

He sniffled, trying to contain himself, trying to stop crying because this  _ was _ his job. He had failed at making plans and failed at keeping himself together and surely if he failed here he would fall apart.

But with a broken hearted sigh, he closed his eyes, still burning with tears as consciousness slipped away, leaving him alone in his head once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a little side note, I'd like to recommend you look at the chapter titles. This one, and the one before it. :)


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